Second Sight
by CSI1983
Summary: Someone is copying some of the most infamous murders in history and the team must find out who it is before one of thier own becomes the killers ultimate victim  Slight GSR, major WCR
1. Chapter 1

_A/N - I watched a fantastic movie over the weekend called 'Copy Cat' and I thought that it would make a great fanfiction. Names have been changed to offer some sort of respect for the victims and obviously creative license has been accepted and exploited for all that it is worth! I have a warning for you all however, I have changed my MO on this one and taken a route that I rarely take in regards to stories. So please read, reveiw and tell me what you think! Once again I am taking most titles from movies._

Second Sight

Chapter One – Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas

Grissom was tired. He had been working for almost a month straight on a case that they had just concluded. This is when he hated his job, when it feels like there would be no end in sight, when the suspect slipped through their grasp again and again. Then just as suddenly, the case is over and life becomes somewhat normal again. Normal for him anyway. He was just heading home when Ecklie strode into his office, placing a new file on his desk before striding back out again without a word. Which was good, because when he spoke, Grissom barely listened anyway. He glanced at the file before picking up his phone and calling Sara and Catherine. When he arrived at the scene, they were there waiting for him, talking to Brass. Catherine looked about as tired as Grissom felt, she had been working with him on the last case and he could see the results of the sleepless nights in the dark circles under her eyes. He made a mental note to himself that if they didn't need her for this case he was going to send her home for a couple of days. The last thing he wanted was one of his team to suffer major burn out when it wasn't needed. Sara looked tired as well; they had all had cases in the last month that kept them in the office when they should have been in their own homes sleeping instead of catching a few hours on the sofa in the break room. Whatever this case was, he hoped that it would be over sooner then the others had been.

"Hey. What have we got?"

Brass exchanged a glance with Sara and Catherine before turning back to Grissom.

"If I tell you, you would not believe me. You need to see this for yourself."

Grissom glanced at the two women beside him.

"Have you guys been in yet?"

"No, we were waiting for you"

"Well, let's go and see the unbelievable then, shall we?"

They nodded him and followed him, who followed Brass into the very nice house which had a shadow cast over it thanks to the loss of life that sat inside. Grissom fought the urge to ignore his surroundings; he wanted to see the thing that he would not be able to belief, settling instead for making himself look around. The house was large and airy, the kind of place you lived when you had the money. It was hardly rare for him to see this kind of house and whenever he did he always had a sense of amazement at humanity. They praised individuality and yet all the houses on this block looked identical and there was very little difference in their structure. He had a pang of sympathy for anyone who decided to come home drunk, quickly forgetting which house was theirs. He went up the large winding stairwell, taking in the thick, elegant carpets and just how clean they were. No children lived here, that much was obvious to him. They finally stopped in the bathroom and it was here that Grissom finally understood what Brass was talking about. To anyone else, it looked like a dead woman in a bath tub, a stoking wrapped tightly around her throat, her eyes wide and unstaring.

"What do you think?"

"Boston Strangler. A complete copy cat."

"Brass has there been any other cases with this MO?"

"No. As soon as I got the call I checked it against all the cases in the last ten years, there is nothing like this."

"Catherine, can you call Greg and get him to try and track down the pictures from the Boston Strangler please? I want to make sure that we are on the right track."

Catherine nodded and walked from the bathroom, her head down. Grissom looked at Sara next, a frown on his face.

"Plenty of pictures Sara, from every angle possible. Multiples and blow ups. I want to be able to examine these as closely as possible once we're back at the office."

"Ok."

While Sara took pictures, Grissom continued to explore the bathroom. There was little sign of struggle, even though it was obvious she had been interrupted. The front door had not been forced, neither had the bathroom door. Maybe she did what most woman did when they were home alone, left the door open, not really being worried about being seen by others. It didn't appear to be a sexually motivated attack either. Her robe was still securely closed and Grissom could still see that her underwear was on but at the moment that was nothing more then a guess. They would have to wait for Doc to have a look at her before they could confirm it. However, if this person was trying to imitate the Boston Strangler, then she should have been violated with an object of some sort.

"Sara, what do you know about the Boston Strangler?"

Sara kept her head down, continuing to click her camera as she spoke.

"Albert Desalvo started in June 1962 until he was caught January 1964. He preferred prostitutes but as his killing continued, they got younger and then their occupation did not matter. He even killed one lady while she sat in the confession booth and she was fifty-six. Motivation was presumed to be sex but he seemed to get off more from the action of strangling them with their stocking. The bodies were always posed."

"How?"

"Breast's exposed, legs spread in a lewd fashion. This is where you can tell how the two killers are different. Her body is not posed in such a suggestive manner. She is still covered and while she does have a leg hanging from the bath tub, it isn't as exposed as Desalvo's victims."

"What else?"

"There was reason to believe that he did not do the killings alone, that there was a partner in all this. A fact that has never been proven and I doubt that they ever will. He died and despite what they asked, he never told them anything more."

"Do you think that this guy could be doing nothing more then a poor imitation of Desalvo?"

"Could be. Unfortunately, we have to wait and see. There is nothing we can do until there are more victims."

"Did Desalvo leave any DNA behind, ever?"

"No. He covered his tracks fairly well"

"What about gaining entry to the victim's homes?"

"Just a simple fake out. Pretending to be the land lord or the gas man, anything to make them trust him."

"Smart guy"

"Yeah he was. He didn't look dangerous and people had the urge to trust him"

"Then he killed them"

"Exactly."

"Well if this indeed a serial, we will need to call in an expert to help us out. There is only so much I know about the forgotten greats."

"Same here. I know enough to know it when I see it but not enough to build you a huge profile."

"That's why we need help. But I'm hoping that I won't have to make that phone call."

"Who will you be calling?"

"Have you ever heard of Serena Wells?"

"Yeah, I took a couple of her classes in my third semester."

"She will be the one I call. She is one of the best profilers in the country."

"As much as I liked her lectures, I'm hoping that I don't need to meet her again under these circumstances."

"Nor do I"

They exchanged a quick smile before resuming the task of going over the crime scene.

* * *

_He felt safe in his home, safer then he had ever felt before. Better still, it would become his escape when he became famous. It was all just a matter of time until they saw the brilliance that had been laid out in his plan. After all, how could you deny the greats the congratulations that they deserved? They will see what he could do they would see what he needed to do to make sure that they were noted. HE also wanted to make sure that he got what he deserved. By exposing and reminding people of what the killers were and the fear that they gave people in their short reign, he himself will become a legend. It all fell into a sequence, one that he will become the center of. He was going to become something that he would never have become alone but with the greats behind him, how could he not be all that he could be? And when the time came, at the very pinnacle of his plan, he would chose the one person to make the final ultimate kill and show, writing his name in her blood. A final testament to what he was and what he could do. He had enjoyed the first kill, the pleasure of knowing that he was stepping in the footsteps of one of the greatest men alive. He was sure that if he had told Suzanne Anders what she meant and who she was about to become, a chain in a very long string of event and then she would have been happy to die. As it was, she fought harder then he had expected her to but he did manage. In the end, picture in hand, he was able to make it the way the Desalvo had done. He may not be as great of an artist as Desalvo once was, but he was going to do all he could to make sure that he was as famous as all the greats once were. _

* * *

When the entire team was gathered in the break room, their faces a combination of eagerness and confusion. Grissom laid out the pictures that Sara had developed as well as those that Greg had collected from the Boston Strangler files.

"Victim was Suzanne Anders. She wasn't sexually violated from what Doc can tell but she was obviously strangled."

"With a nylon stocking"

Catherine rubbed her eyes with the balls of her hands.

"So we think that this may be nothing more then a copycat?"

"Exactly."

"What do we know about the Boston Strangler?"

Sara cleared her throat before speaking, repeating the same basic facts that she had told Grissom earlier.

"We know that his name was Albert Desalvo and that he killed thirteen women between June 14th 1962 and January 4th 1964. They were between the ages of nineteen and eighty-five. Most had been sexually assaulted in their apartments and without any signs of forced entry into their homes, it was assumed that they knew the killer or at least that he gained entry by pretending to be someone that they would automatically trust. Most presume that these attacks were about sex but his MO indicated otherwise. He liked to strangle them with nylon stockings or cords. This is where he gains his satisfaction. However, even after his confession when he was rounded up on a separate rape charge, there were still many doubts regarding the truth of what really happened. There has been so much speculation as to if he worked alone or not."

"Did he work alone?"

"No one ever found out. He was sent to jail and soon after he was killed in the infirmary in prison. No one was ever charged with his murder and of course no one is going to make any kind of effort to find his killer."

There was a general murmur of agreement floating around the room. They each knew that a killer being killed by their peers is hardly going to show up on the news headlines.

"So where do we go from here?"

Grissom shrugged at Warrick's question. He didn't know what they were going to do, other then wait of course. What more could they do? He hated this, waiting for a killer to strike, not just any killer but an incredible dangerous one. If he was indeed following the Boston Strangler, if they did not catch him in time, they were looking for thirteen more bodies before the reign of terror ended.

"I cannot get over how identical these pictures are."

Greg was looking over the original crime scene pictures and those that they had taken a few hours ago.

"Even the bathrooms look the same. Everything, right down to the way her leg is hanging over the side of the tub is the same. How did he get it so precise?"

"He would have had to study Desalvo."

"What is his motive though? What the hell is he trying to tell us?"

Sara slipped from the armrest of her chair into the seat, shrugging her shoulders.

"Maybe he knows something we don't. Maybe he's trying to show us that Desalvo was innocent"

"How could he possible know that Sara?"

"Look, I want to get this guy. He was not the nicest killer in our history. Any kind of reason, every little theory needs to be explored."

Grissom held up his hands, stopping the beginnings of whatever argument that Greg and Sara were going to get into.

"He could know anything. The point is that we know much less. This guy is ahead of us before we even got out of the starting gate. While we sit here, he could have found his next victim or could have killed again already. So we need to get the prints processed, the shoe prints as well as the stockings and the hair in the tub. We may have something after that."

"And if not?"

"We can do nothing more then wait."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two – Location, Location, Location

_It had gone off without a hitch. Better still, they hadn't found her yet. It was harder then the first kill but that was to be expected. With every kill, he would become stronger and better, more advanced then he had ever been before. He wrote down everything that he needed for the third kill. He would need to kill another three times before he could prove the point that he wanted to make. He wanted to establish an MO before he made the final point. Then he will be great, and then he will prove himself to all the low lives out there. He took the picture from his pocket and pinned it to the board in front of his desk. He had already chosen her. She was perfect as the final sacrifice, the final move in the chess game. He wanted to take her now but he had to wait for her. She was his reward for all of his hard work. He took out his permanent marker and carefully wrote her name at the bottom of the picture. She was the ultimate prey. She was powerful, independent and she was intelligent. While the other victims were nothing more then pawns that he will dispose of with time, she was something that any killer would be proud of. He sat back in his seat, placing his feet on the desk, whispering her name over and over again._

_"Catherine Willows….Catherine Willows….Catherine Willows….."_

* * *

"Tell me more about Suzanne Anders."

Sara shrugged at Grissom, her face pulled into a frown.

"She was forty-five and had two older children. She lived alone, her husband died three years previously. She was the first of Desalvo's victims and the first of our guy as well."

"What did Doc say about the body?"

"She was just strangled, nothing more. She was killed in the tub there was evidence of fixed lividity. The hairs that we found were hers, same with the prints littered throughout the house. She was only dead for a day, no more then that. We have nothing on this guy Grissom"

"We need something. What set this guy off for one? What made him start all of this?"

"I have a theory if you want to hear it"

"Your theory is all we have at the moment, so go ahead."

Sara pulled her back pack beside her and extracted a big, thick book. She placed it in front of him and watched as he examined it closely. It was a thick with a white and red cover, 'Ultimate Killing Machines' was written across the front, blending in with the red and white background. Grissom glanced at the bottom of the cover and felt a jolt of recognition, Serena Wells wrote this book. He turned to the first chapter which gave details about Desalvo's victims.

"So you think that he was copying this book?"

"It is as good of a lead as any. It's the only one we have anyway."

"So I guess I am going to have to make that call after all"

Sara smiled widely at him.

"Guess so

* * *

He was in the break room when Serena Wells arrived and he was hardly surprised when every male in the lab forgot what they were doing to watch her walk past. She was an incredibly beautiful woman. With long brown hair, big blue eyes and small figure, she walked with immense confidence and grace. She didn't look like she belonged in a lab at all, let alone written a book not only profiling serial killers but how some of the greatest unsolved cases in history remain that way. He knew that she had made a lot of enemies within the police department for her accusations that they stuffed up multi-investigations. Grissom admired her for not being afraid to make a stand where it counted.

"Miss Wells, how nice to see you again"

He shook her hand as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Do we have to go over this every time we meet? Call me Serena. You're making me feel like an old woman"

"I would hate to do that. Would you like a coffee?"

"Please. Cream with two sugars."

Grissom lined up three mugs and made the hot coffee, looking at his watch every few minutes.

"Waiting for someone Grissom?"

"Yeah, my partner on this case is Sara Sidle and she was meant to be here ten minutes ago.

Serena cocked an eyebrow at Grissom.

"Why do I remember that name?"

"She took some of your classes in college."

"Oh, I see. Then I had to stop giving them"

"Why was that?"

"I was only in my early twenties when I started giving those lectures and I didn't realize the power that knowledge could have. One of the kids in the class developed a theory based in my information that he could commit the perfect crime."

"Did he?"

"For a little while, yes. But we all know that there is no such thing as the perfect crime. You will get caught at some point."

"What did he do?"

"Killed girls, any girls, strangled them and then chopped them up, putting their bodies into cement, then dumping the blocks. It would have worked except for one thing."

"Which was?"

"He was an arrogant son of a bitch. He thought that he had done it and so he boasted to his peers that he had committed the perfect murder."

"So that's why you stopped giving the lectures."

Sara, who had caught the tail end of the conversation, threw in the comment as she settled herself in the seat across from Serena. They exchanged a quick handshake before they all got down to business.

"So Serena, tell us all you can about serial killers. We know most of it but there are still a few blanks that need to be filled."

"Well, there are four different types of serial killers. First there is the Visionary. Usually psychotic, the visionary is compelled to murder because he hears voices or sees visions ordering him to kill certain kinds of people. Then there are those that are mission-oriented. He targets a specific group of people who he believes are unworthy to live and without whom the world would be a better place. Then the Hedonistic killers. Kills for the thrill of it because they enjoy the act of killing and sometimes becomes sexually aroused during the act of murder. Finally, you have the Power Oriented killers. They kill to exert ultimate control over his victims. These murderers are not psychotic, but they are obsessed with capturing and controlling their victims and forcing them to obey their every command"

"Our guy does not really fit into any of those categories."

"Because he's doing it in the shadow of others. Desalvo was a power orientated killer. He got off on strangling his victims. Judging by the degree in which he set up the crime scene, I would say the same for your killer. He is exercising control in what he wants things to be like. He picked a victim similar looking to Desalvo's first victim, maybe he had even known what her bathroom looked like. That was the only reason that she had been picked."

"So he was organized"

"Yes. He wanted you to find the body, to know what he was planning and to know what he was doing. He may not want to get caught but he certainly wants to exercise power over the situation."

"So what is he trying to tell us?"

"Well, it could be one of many things. He could be trying to remind people how great they once were, could be trying to create a name for himself, or he could just like the way that they kill."

"We won't know until we hear from him again."

"This is the bad side of serials. If there is no clue left at a crime scene and they were smart enough to clean up after themselves, then all you can do is wait."

Serena opened her mouth to speak again but was interrupted by the chirping of Sara and Grissom's beeping belts as they received pages at the exact same moment. Grissom grabbed his coat, while Sara put the half finished coffees in the sink.

"Have you been to a crime scene before Serena?"

"They are not my favorite places to be but yes"

"Fancy coming with us and maybe start a profile on this guy?"

"Sure."

Grissom went to walk out the door, pausing when he realized that Sara had not moved, she was busy looking at Serena's book.

"Sara, what is it?"

Sara held the book open for him to see, her eyes wide.

"The next killer is the BTK"

"He's developing"

Sara and Grissom both looked at Serena who was standing in the doorway.

"Dennis Rader was a stalker. He would search for victims and once he had found them, he stalked them before killing them."

"Which means that our killer is stalking people now?"

"Would seem so. Very few killers, organized ones anyway, just kill without doing their research first. Rader is also known for the worse killing of all."

Sara nodded slowly and she had a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

"The Otero killings"

Grissom knew many things but he did not seem to have books worth of information about serial killers stored up like Sara and Serena did.

"The Otero killings?"

Sara turned to him, her voice low and quick as they started to walk.

"He became obsessed with a little girl called Josie Otero. He met her mother and then he decided that they would be the next victims. He killed four of the family members that were home at the time. He killed the mother by strangling her, the little girl by hanging her, the younger brother by placing a bag over his head and the father also by strangulation. They never had a change."

"Did he rape them?"

"No, thank God."

They got into the truck and Grissom put the speed on, suddenly eager to get to the crime scene. He hoped that their killer had decided to pick another case, not the Otero's, because he didn't think he could handle that kind of killing. They drove in silence until they finally arrived at the crime scene. They got their cases from the back of the car and headed towards Brass.

"Please tell me that there is just one victim"

Brass frowned as he nodded, remaining silent as they strode past him, Serena giving him a slight nod of greeting. Serena paused as they got closer to the door, looking at the three children that were huddled together in the back of the police car.

"Grissom, Sara"

They were back at her side as she pointed to the kids, her mouth feeling numb. It was one thing to tell people about murders that had happened many years ago, it was another thing entirely to be in the middle of one.

"It is the Sally-Anne Ford case that he is mimicking. She was a chance victim when the one that Rader had chosen was not at home. He followed the youngest boy home."

"But he didn't hurt the kids did he?"

"Not physically."

Grissom nodded and lead both women into the house.

"She'll be in the bedroom"

He nodded again and headed up to the second floor, searching for the master bedroom. The body was where Serena said it would be.

"Oh my God, this guy is good"

Serena's comment shocked them both and they frowned at her.

"Why?"

"The detail is incredible. She is placed on the bed in the exact position that Sally-Anne was. She even has the pink cord tied around her throat. I bet good money that those kids were locked in the bathroom while she was being killed.

"Why didn't he kill the kids?"

"He got interrupted by a phone call."

"Otherwise is would have been like the Otero murders."

"Exactly."

"Sara, same process as last time. As many pictures as you can from as many angles. I want to be able to compare them again"

"Ok"

"Her panties will be missing as well. Rader often took the underwear and wore it himself once he got home."

Grissom glanced down and saw that Serena was right. He made a quick call to Greg to get him to track down some pictures from the Sally-Anne Ford case. He needed to know how precise this guy was exactly. They processed the scene in silence, Serena staying well back, not touching anything, making sure not to disturb them.

"Are the children going to be interviewed?"

Sara gave her a small smile.

"Detective Brass will take care of all that."

"Good."

"Serena, does she look like Sally-Anne Ford?"

Serena moved closer to the bed, being careful to keep her clothes and hair off the bed. She studied the body closely, her mind moving into her memory bank with lightening speed. That had always been her problem. Once she had an image in her head, it was seared there forever, regardless of what she did.

"A little. The only thing the victims have in common is that hair. That is likely though, Rader had a thing for women with long hair. The both have the same round face, are about the same height and body shape. The room is different though."

"You said yourself that Sally-Anne Ford was a chance killing."

"Precisely."

She stood back and allowed them to finish their work. Some time later, when the entire scene had been processed, they headed back to the lab. They headed back into the break room, Serena's book begging for their attention. Sara picked it up and scanned the pages before letting out a loud sigh.

"The next one is John Wayne Gacy."

"Now that one I recognize. He was the clown guy that hunted kids, wasn't he?"

"That's him."

"And then?"

"David Berkowitz."

"The guy who listened to the demon dogs?"

"Exactly."

Grissom sat heavily on a chair and found the impatience almost too much to bear. He hated this. Too many lives had already been destroyed by this killer and all they could do was wait. Wait until the scene evidence had been processed and wait for them to finally have something that could help them catch this guy. Until then, there was nothing more. Sara sat in the seat across from them, her eyes wide as she read the details of the crimes to come. Serena sat next to him, her breathing steady a small frown on her face.

"I think I can build a profile from what little I've seen"

"That would be a huge help."

Serena stood and began to pace, her face down, hands behind her back.

"He's Caucasian. I believe that he has a partner, someone who has no idea of what his true nature is. He believes that this is his reason for living he has been waiting for this moment for years. The detail and planning that has gone into each killing proves that he is patient but once he has started he will not stop until his mission, whatever that may be, is complete. He's not doing this for sexual gratification otherwise there would be some sort of proof, such as seminal fluid or condoms. But lacking that evidence proves that sex was not his motive. He is obviously charming and normal looking otherwise he would not be able to gain access to the victims homes without some sort of force."

"So basically, he's a Ted Bundy?"

"Pretty much. Except Bundy was a little more picky when it came to his victims. This guy just wants them to look the same as the victims before his. This guy is a control freak. I would hate to see how he reacts when things do not go as planned."

"Well, I hope to see it soon because I don't want this guy hanging around much longer. I fully intend to destroy his plans."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N - I know that this chapter has been a long way coming but I have been really busy with school and work. I hope that you enjoy this continuation and that you read and reveiw!_

Chapter Three – Another Brick In The Wall

_He kept the clippings. He stored them in a shoe box under his desk, away from prying eyes. He needed to make sure that Charlie didn't find it. She was nothing more then an alibi for his every move but he needed her for this. If this was to work she needed to remain in the dark. So much so that the only time she knew something was up was when he committed the ultimate kill and not a moment before. Until then, she needed to stay in the shadows for every move that he made. She had not questioned him for anything so far but he was not expecting the peace to last too long. She was smarter then people gave her credit for. The blonde hair and the bubbly personality could be deceptive. But he knew that there was a smart girl underneath it all and that was far more dangerous then anything else._

* * *

All three of them ate dinner together that night. Sara had never felt like more of a third wheel before. She could hardly believe just how well Serena and Grissom got on. They were so engrossed in their conversation that neither of them noticed that Sara had barely touched her food and was examining her nails instead. How rude would it be if she bailed? She didn't know long she could stand this. She actually felt a little jealous of the bond that they were developing. After all, she had been at Grissom's side for years and suddenly she was being replaced. Stupid how comfortable you could get with one reality and how disturbed you are when it gets exchanged for another. She continued to watch them from her place on the outskirts of the conversation. It had been awhile since she had seen Grissom so animated. His hands were moving as he spoke, his eyes on Serena, his food forgotten. It was rare to see him in such a good mood, circumstances considered. She could not believe that she was jealous of Serena Wells. As she pushed her food around the plate, she wondered why. It's not as if Serena was known for her romantic life but then again, neither was Grissom. They were both more likely to walk on the moon then they were to get lives outside of their work. 

"We had better get going, we have more then enough work to do at the lab"

Serena and Sara both reached for their wallets but Grissom shook his head as he laid out the money for the food.

"I've got it."

Sara resumed her position on the side of the conversation as they got back into the truck. She watched them as they continued to speak, feeling more left out then she possibly could.

* * *

Catherine was just starting to make dinner when there was a knock on her door. 

"David, how are you?"

"Great beautiful, how are you?"

David leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek before coming into the house and settling himself on the sofa. David Cole could possibly be considered the perfect man; if only he wasn't gay.

"Are you staying for dinner tonight?"

David nodded as he jumped up from the sofa and followed Catherine into the kitchen.

"What are we having?"

"Casserole."

"Great. Where's Lindsey?"

"At school, she should be home soon though"

"How did her show go last night?"

"Really well. She was disappointed that you weren't there."

David sighed and started playing with the cuffs of his shirt.

"Yeah, I know. I had something going down that I had to sort out."

Catherine stopped cutting carrots and turned to him, her hand on his arm.

"Well, how about you help me finish making this casserole and then we can have a glass of wine and you can tell me what happened?"

"Catherine, you are fantastic. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yes, but I still like to hear it."

David gave her a bright smile before moving back to his normal chatty self as he sliced up the mushrooms and garlic. When the casserole was done, Catherine poured them both a large glass of wine and they settled themselves in the living room.

"Ok David, tell me what's going on?"

David sighed and placed his wine on the table.

"Chris and I broke up last night"

"Oh no, what happened?"

"He fell in love with someone else."

"I'm so sorry David."

"I am as well. We were together for two years and now that it's over, I don't know quite to do with myself."

"Well, I'm here if you need me."

"Thanks Cath. I still feel bad that I missed Lindsey's play."

"Don't be silly. Lindsey is old enough to understand."

"I hope so. I wasn't that understanding at that age."

"She loves you. You may just have to make it up to her somehow."

David smiled at her and pointed to a bunch of sunflowers that Catherine hadn't even noticed him bring in.

"That's what those are for. Tucked in the flowers is a music voucher. Do you think that that's enough?"

"It's more then Eddie ever gave her."

David was about to comment when Lindsey came into the room in her normal teenage hurricane. At fourteen, she was almost taller then Catherine and a stunning looking girl. Gone was the blonde hair that she had with a child, darkening to a rich brown that emphasized the brown eyes that she had gotten from her father. It was the only thing of Eddie's that she had gotten. She was stubborn, argumentative and serious, just like Catherine herself. Having an argument with Lindsey was pointless because neither of them would ever back down. So that set about making a respectful truce with each other and so far it had worked. So far. Far from being upset that David had not come to her show last night, she gave him a bright smile and a hug.

"I'm so sorry that I could not make it to your show last night Lindsey, something really important came up."

"That's ok David. Mom came and taped the whole thing so you can take that home with you and then tell me what you think"

"I would love that."

Lindsey turned to Catherine and gave her an unexpected hug, one that was tight and desperate. When it was done, Lindsey sat across from her and Catherine could see that her daughter had been crying and that she was pale.

"What happened?"

Lindsey's happy demeanor disappeared in a wave of tears and she began to shake. Catherine moved to sit next to Lindsey, pulling her daughter into her arms. David went and got the box of tissues that sat on the counter, before quietly offering them to Lindsey.

"Honey, what happened?"

"Sonya Lake's mother was killed!"

"What?"

"It happened this afternoon, about seven hours ago. They pulled Sonya out of home economics but they made her take a friend. She picked me and we both went into the office, thinking that we were in trouble but her mother was dead!"

Catherine stroked the top of her daughter's head, waiting until she calmed down a little before probing for details. It was hard on her daughter, Mrs. Lake had been the director for all of Lindsey's productions and Catherine felt upset that just last night they were sitting together commenting on how beautiful their daughter's looked.

"Lindsey, did they say anything about what happened?"

Lindsey nodded as she wiped the tears off her cheeks, even though they were being replaced no matter how quickly she wiped. Catherine knew that this was not the first time that Lindsey had been exposed to death but she still felt like she had seen too much considering how young she still was.

"They didn't want to but Sonya started screaming. She went nuts Mom, she wanted to know the truth, said that she needed it."

"What did they tell her?"

"That it was a drive by shooting. That Mrs. Lake got hit when she came out of the shop but they lied"

"How do you know that?"

"Because Sonya fainted and I waited until they all left before checking out the principles. The note was from Jim Mom and it said that it appeared that Mrs. Lakes had been shot _inside_ her car. Someone shot her through the window."

"How did they know all that after just seven hours?"

"Mom, I know about the serial killer. They told us at school"

"What!?!?! Why in the world would they want to tell you something like that?"

"To keep us safe. They must have put an ASAP on it for Greg. Either way, Mrs. Lakes was murdered."

Lindsey collapsed against Catherine in another fit of tears. David silently left, giving Catherine a small smile as he went. They stayed there for hours, just the two of them, dinner forgotten as Catherine tried to calm her daughter down.

* * *

The last time that Lindsey had done this it was just after her father had died. Catherine looked down at her daughter, who was curled against her mother after finally falling asleep. She had woken Catherine up at two am; she had been having nightmares about someone shooting Catherine. She had gladly opened her bed to her daughter, stroking her hair until she fell in a deep sleep. It was odd, the difference that a few years could make. Lindsey now smelt like perfume, lip stick and hair spray. But if Catherine focused really hard, she could still smell the sweet baby smell that lingered on her daughter. It took another couple of hours before her own thoughts calmed down and she was able to drift off asleep, her arms still wrapped around her daughter, holding her tightly.

* * *

It wasn't until the next day that she got to call Grissom and get the low down on a case that happened a little too close to home. Grissom ignored her requests of information over the phone, insisting it was safer for him to visit her. She hung up the phone wondering when Grissom had gotten so paranoid about a case. He had never been overly concerned about secrecy he always was too distracted by tracking the killer. When he did finally arrive, he didn't knock, just strode in and gave her a concerned look. 

"Is Lindsey ok?"

"Not really. She insisted on going to school today but I told her that if it gets too much that she was to call me. Now tell me why this case has you so paranoid."

Grissom, for whatever reason, could not sit still, his eyes flicking around the house every few seconds.

"He's hitting closer and closer to home,"

"What in the world do you mean?"

"For some reason, whatever reason he has, he killed Louisa Lake and she was a friend of yours I believe?"

"Yes, she was. She was the play director at Lindsey's school. What does that have to do with anything?"

Grissom hung his head and rubbed his eyes.

"I have no idea. He's moving too quickly for us to get anything."

"Who was he imitating here?"

"David Berkowitz. Except for some reason, he skipped over John Wayne Gacy."

"Well, considering what Gacy did, it may be a good thing."

"But it's our killers MO. This is a guy who likes routine, so why did he suddenly up and leave the very routine that he has established?"

"Because he's insane? Look Grissom, Lindsey is fine, I'm fine."

Grissom shook his head feeling guilty. It was one thing for a crime to happen and for him not to know the people affected by it but he had watched Lindsey grow up. She had been running around the lab her whole life. He was her god-father and he took the role seriously. He liked to make sure that her and Catherine were safe. It had always been that way. He had gotten a spare key cut when Catherine was having so much trouble with Eddie and for weeks at a time, Catherine and Lindsey would live with him. And the idea that this guy had hurt her really pissed him off. Catherine put her hand on his arm and gave him a slight smile.

"She really is fine Grissom. She is actually very crafty I discovered last night"

"What do you mean?"

"She waited until her principle left the room before reading the note on the desk that Jim had given her. Apparently, the school has told them what has been going on with this guy?"

"Why would they do that? There is nothing to be gained by telling a bunch of kids that their lives are at risk when they are not."

"I know. I called the principle this morning and told her that I don't think it's appropriate but apparently I am one of the few parents who don't think it's a good thing. What parent would send their child to school if there was a risk anyway? How stupid do they think we are?"

"Sorry Cath, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You don't scare me, that guy does. I am trouble believing that I was talking to Louisa just the other night and now she's dead. She was a good person and Lindsey loved her."

"I had better go, I have so much to do. Serena is staying in a hotel close by so that she can help us as much as she can"

Catherine gave him a bright smile.

"How is the lovely Serena?"

Grissom, in normal Grissom fashion, missed the joke entirely and nodded at her, his face still in a frown.

"Fine, she's fine. Sara is being very quiet though"

Catherine shook her head as she watched him leave. When will that man wake up and smell the coffee?

* * *

Grissom sat in his office but was too distracted to look at the pictures of the current crime scene. Instead he picked up the phone and dialed a number that he had hardly used before. When the answering machine picked up he cursed under his breath and began to speak. 

"Hi Lindsey, its Grissom….I just wanted to make sure that you were alright after what happened yesterday….I know that this is tough but I'm here if you need to talk, ok….Just give me a call at anytime that you need me…..I'm your god father for a reason….Take care of yourself honey"

Grissom hung up the phone and immediately felt better. Lindsey knew that if she needed him that he would be there. He wanted to say more. Like she was the daughter that he never had, that he loved her but it got harder and harder as she grew older. He could hardly believe that she was fourteen now. Where did all those years go? He was astounded by just how quickly fragile innocence got traded in for a hormone driven teen. He sometime missed the little Lindsey, the one who looked up to him and would slip her tiny hand in his when she got scared. In saying that, he was glad that she was turning out to be like her mother. Catherine was an incredible person and it was to her credit that her only daughter was turning out just like her. Grissom halted his thoughts and turned his attention back to the pictures in front of him. The crime scene read identical to that of the original Berkowitz murders. Louisa Lake was sitting in the driver's seat, her hand still clutching her hand bag. Her head was slumped forward and blood splattered both seats, grey matter and fragments of skull over the driver side window. He had sent all the finding to Greg but he knew that there would be nothing coming back to him. When a knock sounded on his door, he kept his head down, his eyes still on the pictures.

"Enter"

Grissom didn't realize that it was Lindsey until it was too late and she had caught a glimpse of the pictures on his desk. Her eyes were glued to the pictures, her mouth open. Grissom gathered the violent images and shoved them back in the file before popping the whole thing in his drawer.

"Lindsey, what are you doing here?"

Lindsey took the seat across from Grissom, handing him a styrofoam cup.

"I thought I would come and see you."

"It's good to see you. How are you going?"

"Ok. I went school today and it was horrible."

"I'm sorry that you saw those pictures."

"That's ok. I've seen some of the pictures that Mom has brought home."

"Still, you didn't need that."

"I'm fine Grissom. Don't worry about me, Mom does that enough for the both of you."

"Ok, I apologize for my over-reaction. How is Sonya?"

Lindsey sighed and shook her head.

"Not very good. They had to give her a sedative. She would not stop screaming."

"That's awful"

"Jim said that he'll get me any news on her that he can but she's not doing very well at all."

"Hardly surprising all things considered."

They chatted for a little while longer before Lindsey had to go home and some homework. She surprised Grissom by coming around his side of the desk and pulling him into a hug.

"Thank you for worrying about me Grissom."

"Always Lindsey."

She gave him a small kiss on the cheek before grabbing her back pack and heading out the door. Grissom sat back and looked at the door that had closed behind her. Catherine, whether she realized that she had done it or not, had raised a fantastic daughter.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N - I have tried to get this done as quickly as possible but things are not going as I want them to. I am riddled with some sort of virus and my head feels like its stuffed with cotton wool and everything hurts. So if you want to make me feel better, please read and reveiw:)_

Chapter Four – Too Close For Comfort

_He was getting closer now. He could almost taste it. But they were yet to see what he was really capable of, after all, the ultimate kill had yet to happen. The next best thing would be in his next kill. It would inch him closer and closer to Catherine Willows and to what he had planned for her_, _the pain and the torture that would ensue would be the ultimate experience. He had checked his shed over and over again, arranging for Charlie to disappear for a few days. That was all that he needed, after all, how much pain can one woman endure? He had set out a plan so great that there was no way that they would find her before he was finished._

_

* * *

_

They had heard nothing from their killer for almost two weeks. It confused Grissom to no end as to why the killer would suddenly abandon his routine. Nevertheless, the case moved to the back of his mind as new ones took its place. After all, with no new leads and no old ones, they had nothing. The bodies of the last victims had given them all that they could and other then Serena's profile, there was no other evidence. Serena stayed for another couple of days before heading back home and Grissom found himself missing her. She had a certain charisma to her and she was one of the most stunning women that he had seen in quite a while. She had gently let him down when he had invited her to another dinner, this one without Sara. She didn't get involved with people, she didn't even own a dog. In her line of work, her life was at risk almost every day and she didn't need the added pressure of anyone else's. He had argued back that he put his life on the line everyday as well but she would not hear a word of it. So Grissom had listened and removed his hopes from that star. He liked her, he really had and it was refreshing to meet someone new who challenged him the way that Serena did. Instead, he settled for reading her book, hoping that whatever their killer had planned next, that he would leave something for them to go on. Grissom had always had trouble collecting evidence from thin air and that's all that they had when he left a scene, a bloodied corpse and not much else.

* * *

A month past and it was only when Grissom was allowing the case to slip completely from his memory when Brass called. So accustomed to not hearing anything from their killer, he thought nothing of asking Brass what he had for them. Brass shocked him out of the peaceful place that he had nestled in, saying two words that ripped through his chest like a dagger.

"He's back"

"Shit. Who?"

"Jeffery Dahmer."

"Give me two minutes"

Grissom hung up the phone and started paging his team. There was no time to waste and a sick killer reemerging from whatever stone he had been hiding under for the last month.

* * *

The first thing that they noticed was the stench of rotting corpses. Grissom realized quickly that their killer had not been laying dormant as they had first suspected. He had been busy building a tribute to Jeffrey Dahmer. Greg, who was with them, bailed quickly, his face turning a horrible shade of green. He could not blame him, even after all these years, Grissom thought that he had smelt every stench that a human body could possibly expel but he was wrong. This was far worse then anything that he ever touched his nostrils and it came in intolerable waves. He was desperate to open a window but he knew that in doing that, they could compromise everything that may have been left behind as well as the corpses. Grissom pushed all conscious thought and moved into automatic, it was safer there, he didn't have to focus. He looked over the bodies, one by one as they passed them to get deeper into the house. There were at least a hundred there, some were nothing more then poorly covered bone, others masses of moving flesh as maggots got to work. Catherine remained by his side, followed by Sara, Nick then Warrick. Grissom ignored the soft retching sounds that came from outside as Greg brought up whatever he had eaten in the last twelve hours. Grissom kept his eyes directly in front of him, maneuvering his body so his shoulders did not touch those of the bodies that hung eye level with him.

"Warrick, take what pictures you can. I don't think that we can do much without proper light."

"Ok."

Warrick left and moments later, he could hear the steady clicking of the camera as he moved around the room.

"Sara and Nick, you guys take this side of the room, Catherine and I will work the other"

With nods they were gone and Grissom took himself off automatic and focused on the first corpse that they had been confronted with. Catherine left his side to go and explore a little deeper into the house and he could hear her breathing through her mouth as she moved slowly. The body that was in front of Grissom was that of a young child. His head was nearly off his shoulders thanks to a deep, ragged cut across his throat. With a tug in his stomach, Grissom recognized the boy as Danny Ratters, his picture had been greeting him at work for the last week. His missing poster had sat on the board in the reception area, his sad eyes watching Grissom as he walked past. Grissom wondered just how many of these people that he would recognize once the bodies had been collected. At first, he failed to hear the screaming. When he did, he almost jumped from his skin. It took him another few seconds before he realized that it was Catherine and he heart shook in his chest as he moved as fast as he could to find her. Warrick had bet him to it and he had Catherine sobbing and shaking in his arms.

"What happened?"

Warrick pointed to a chilly bin that lay innocently in the corner, one that Grissom was sure contained nothing innocent inside. He pulled up the lid and was faced with three heads, all watching him with confused eyes and shocked expressions. As he focused on the third face, the bile rose in his throat. It was David Cole, Catherine's friend and neighbor. Grissom had only met him a few times but he was a lovely guy and he knew that he meant a lot to both Lindsey and Catherine. He also knew that Lindsey had just lost yet another father figure.

"Warrick, get Catherine out of here."

"Yes sir."

Warrick, Catherine still shaking and crying against his chest, walked out of the house and into the bright daylight. Brass gave him a confused expression as they walked past but Warrick ignored it and continued to walk, getting Catherine as far from the house as he possibly could. When he could no longer smell the heavy stench of death, he looked back and realized that they had walked far enough for the police cars and the officers milling around them to look like nothing but toys. He held Catherine until she had stopped shaking, her sobs easing off to hiccupped breaths. She pulled back from him, her face angry as she screamed into the wind, falling to her knees on the warm, hard earth.

"FUCK!"

Warrick let her vent, resting a hand on her shoulder to let her know that he was there. Catherine stayed where she was for a few more moments before standing and turning her tear streaked face to him.

"I should have known that he was missing"

"Catherine, don't do this to yourself"

"He said he was going on holiday to try and fix things with his boyfriend. The last time he went on holiday, I never heard from him so I didn't think anything of it."

"Catherine, don't do this to yourself. The only person to blame is the sick guy who is doing this. David was just a pawn."

"Grissom said that he was doing this to get closer to me. What's next Warrick? If I lose anyone else…."

Catherine let the sentence hang in the air as she broke into another wave of tears. Warrick pulled her into his arms again, stroking her hair.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Warrick refused to leave her side. He was there when she returned to work to gather her belongings, he drove her home and made her hot cups of sweet tea to try and calm her down. His presence was a comfort but Catherine was dreading Lindsey's arrival home. She knew that she had never been one to hide her emotions well and Lindsey knew her well enough to be able to read the shaken look that she knew that she had on her face. She didn't want to tell Lindsey the truth but she knew that if she didn't Lindsey would find it elsewhere, which to Catherine was much worse. At least this way she could do her best to protect her from details that no fourteen year old had the business of knowing. Warrick held her hand as she sat on the sofa, waiting for the shaking to stop but it wouldn't. She felt like an old, beaten woman.

"Hi….what happened?"

Lindsey took a split second to take in the entire situation before dropping into the space next to Catherine. Catherine gave her a sad smile as she stroked her daughter's hair, trying to gather the words but she couldn't. Every time she tried, the image of David's head in the chiller popped into her mind and another sob escaped her and she started to cry. Warrick squeezed her hand and looked at Lindsey, hating to be the one who broke her heart.

"David was murdered"

Lindsey looked at Catherine, wanting to know if it was the truth but Catherine was lost in her grief.

"Was it him?"

Warrick nodded and was surprised when, much like her mother, Lindsey let out a loud trail of curses that seemed so wrong coming out of her mouth.

"Mother Fucker! How dare he! That bastard needs to be killed!"

Far from falling into the tears that he expected, Lindsey started to pace, her face an absolute mask of fury.

"How was he killed WarricK?"

"Lindsey, no"

"Warrick, yes! Tell me"

"No"

"TELL ME!"

Her screamed demand bounced off the walls and hit Warrick again and again. Tears of frustration and grief fell down her cheeks and she stood in front of him, her eyes locked on his. Warrick answered as calmly as he could.

"Lindsey, I'm not going to tell you that kind of thing"

"Stop treating me like a child! I want to know how that monster killed David!"

"Lindsey, I will not – "

Lindsey frowned hard at Warrick, her eyes boring into his.

"Fuck you Warrick"

Lindsey took her back pack and stormed out of the house. Catherine had watched the entire exchange in an almost catatonic state, her eyes searching for something she seemed unable to find.

"She doesn't normally talk like that."

"I know Cath, she's just mad. Do you know where she's going to go?"

"No idea. But it's better to let her cool off rather then go after her."

Warrick nodded and let her lean against him, hoping that Lindsey would be ok.

* * *

The knock on his door was completely unexpected. Even more unexpected was the person who stood there.

"Lindsey what are you doing here?"

"How did David die? Nobody is telling me what I need to know"

She brushed past him and into the house, allowing her back pack to fall to the floor with a loud thump.

"There is a reason for that"

"I don't care. Tell me what I need to know"

"Lindsey, breathe. You need to calm down."

"I will not calm down! There is an asshole out there killing my friends and I want him stopped."

"What and we don't?"

"You don't seem to be doing a lot about it! He's been out there killing for weeks and you're telling me that you have nothing?"

"We have nothing! You have no idea what you are talking about Lindsey. You are a child and this is not your business!"

"I am not a child. And it is my business when people I love get hurt!"

"I understand that Lindsey but you need to understand how this works. We need to go with the evidence and when there is nothing there, we can do nothing"

"So basically, you sit on your ass and wait while he kills more people? What a waste of fucken time!"

Whether it was because of what he had seen that day or because he didn't need to be reminded of his failures, Grissom snapped. He grabbed Lindsey hard by the shoulders and gave her a slight shake.

"You do not speak to me like that! Do you understand?"

For a moment, Lindsey became a little girl again and her eyes grew wide, her lips quivering.

"Yes sir."

Grissom released her and began to pace the small living room, his slippers thunking on the floor. Lindsey watched him, her arms wrapped around herself.

"Grissom, I'm scared."

Grissom paused in his pacing, looking at her, reading the raw fear in her eyes.

"Of what?"

"What if he hurts Mom next?"

He pulled Lindsey into a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. Her heart hammered hard and fast against him, reminding him of a humming bird that he had once help in his hand.

"He won't hurt your Mom"

"Promise?"

"I promise"

"Grissom"

"Hmm?"

"Was it bad?"

"What?"

"How David died?"

Grissom could feel her tears wetting the front of his shirt but he refused to let go of her. How do you tell a fourteen year old that the way her friend died was the most violent way possible?

"I won't lie to you Lindsey. It would have been horrible but it would have also been quick. He would not have suffered for very long"

"Ok"

"Did you want to spend the night in the spare room or did you want to go home?"

"I want to go home. Mom's not doing so well. And I need to say sorry to Warrick"

"Why?"

Lindsey lifted her head to look at Grissom.

"I told him to get fucked"

"Oh. You are definitely your mother's daughter. How about we have some hot chocolate? I brought some of those cookies you like"

"The ones you can't stand?"

"Yup."

"Ok. But can I call Mom first, just to let her know that I am here?"

"Of course."

She pulled out of his embrace and picked up the phone, talking briefly to Warrick. She hung up the phone and sunk into the sofa.

"Mom was asleep"

"It's the shock. She'll want you to be close"

"I know and I fully intend to be. Where are those cookies that you promised me?"

He made the hot chocolate and gave her the bag of cookies. He watched her carefully. It was quite shocking how Lindsey had lost David and yet all she needed was some normality, normality that she found at thee bottom of a mug of hot chocolate and in the bag of cookies.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five – Notes And Bullets

Catherine woke up with a feeling of dread tied in a tight ball in the pit of her stomach. She had not had this feeling in a long time and it concerned her that it didn't happen until now. After all David had been killed as had Louisa Lake and Catherine had felt nothing before their deaths. But this feeling was one she could not shake and it weighed her down like jeans in a swimming pool. She had to act on it, even if it meant that nothing would come of it. She moved from her own bed and went and checked on Lindsey. She was still sleeping peacefully, lost in her dreams. After taking a little comfort that her daughter was ok, Catherine moved into the living room to call her mother. After explaining briefly to her mother about why she was calling, she hung up and placed the phone back on the cradle. The feeling was still there, a hungry beast waiting to be fed. She searched for someone who she could call at this time in the morning and after taking a deep breath, picked up the phone again.

* * *

Warrick had been awake most of the night. He had been too wound up to do more then think. He glanced over to where Tina was sleeping, wondering again how something that had started so good had ended so badly. They still slept in the same bed and lived in the same house but it meant nothing. They lived separate lives and they were nothing anymore. It had been that way for weeks, nearing months. Their marriage was over but Tina didn't speak of it and so Warrick said nothing about it either. When the phone rang, he was grateful for the distraction fro his tangle of thoughts.

"Brown"

"Warrick, its Catherine"

Normally a phone call from her would not account for any worry but with the way things had been going for her lately, Warrick was instantly concerned. She was panting down the phone line, as if she had been running from something. His concern, worry and something much more powerful made him sit up, his nerves instantly taunt.

"Catherine, what's wrong?"

"I have that feeling again Warrick."

"What feeling?"

"That awful one that makes me think something bad is going to happen."

"Cath, you need to calm down."

"I can't! I just have all these horrible thoughts going through my head and I can't get rid of them."

"Ok, go back to bed and I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Thanks Warrick."

Warrick put the phone back on the cradle, his head between his hands.

"Are you really going to her house?"

Warrick turned and faced Tina's accusing eyes.

"Yes. She is my friend and she needs me."

"I am your wife and I need you."

"This is different. She has lost two people very important to her."

Tina sighed and laid flat on the bed, her arm over her eyes.

"Why do you have her spare key on your chain?"

"Same reason that I have Sara's, Nick's and Greg's. Because I am their friend"

"I don't have any of my friend's spare keys."

"Well I do."

"I filed for a divorce. The papers arrived this morning"

Warrick waited for the fight to come back, something to tell him that this marriage was worth the energy. But nothing came. He was tired and he didn't want to waste his energy fighting for something that was not going to do anything more then drain him.

"I'll sign them when I get back"

"You're not going to argue about this?"

"Why would I Tina? You're not happy and neither am I. Someone had to do something and I am glad it was you. I certainly didn't have the courage."

Warrick pulled on his shirt and pants, ignoring Tina's eyes that were boring into his back. He grabbed his keys and went out the door, not even bothering to say goodbye to his soon to be ex wife.

* * *

When he arrived at Catherine's place, he let himself in with a spare key and locked the door behind him. He found her on the sofa, a rug draped over her legs. She would have looked relaxed if it wasn't for the constant moving of her hands and feet.

"Hey Catherine"

Catherine pushed herself of off of the sofa and into Warrick's arms, needing to ground herself with something solid. Warrick held her for a moment, not quite sure what to do. He finally pulled back and looked into her eyes, which were wide with panic.

"Catherine, what is going on?"

"I have no idea. But it's nothing good, that much I am certain"

"What can I do?"

"Make me something hot to drink"

"Tea?"

"Please."

Warrick mulled around the kitchen watching her as he waited for the kettle to boil. He missed her sometimes. It seemed silly to see it that way, after all she was with him all day, almost everyday but he still missed her. He missed the relaxed way that she used to open up to him. Missed the way that they used to flirt, the way which disappeared as soon as he told her that he was married. He missed being able to just go around to her house, with no excuse to why he was over. He missed seeing Lindsey. He missed the entire thing. The hissing kettle pulled him from his thoughts and he quickly poured the tea and moved back into the living room, pushing aside the feeling of nostalgia.

"Here we go"

She took the cup from his hands and wrapped her own around it, breathing in the steam.

"Thank you"

"Not a problem"

Catherine settled herself back on the sofa, pulling the rug back over her legs.

"So, for the sake of distraction, how are you?"

Warrick looked at her, wondering if the truth would fit right now. That he felt lost and unprepared for what had happened with Tina. That he felt redundant from his failed marriage. That he missed her and everything that he and Catherine once had.

"I'm fine"

Catherine studied him for a long moment before frowning at him.

"Liar. What's wrong?"

"Catherine, you really don't need my problems to deal with as well as yours."

"I want to know what's going on with you. I need some sort of distraction from all this mess."

Warrick took a deep breath and sat on the arm of the sofa, so that he could avoid Catherine's curious gaze. He didn't need to see the pity that was bound to be there.

"Tina filed divorce papers. She's signed them already"

"Oh Warrick, I'm sorry"

Catherine put her hand on his knee and he resisted the urge to brush it off. He didn't need that kind of invitation and he knew that she didn't mean it that way.

"I'm ok Catherine. It's been over for a long time"

"It doesn't make it easier though"

"I know but I'll be fine"

"Do you need somewhere to crash for a little while? I have a spare bed"

Warrick wished that he could say yes, but it would be far too much for him. Seeing her day in and day out, what if he slipped and did something stupid?

"It's ok Cath, I don't want to invade your space"

"You won't be. I really would like you to stay and I know that it would make Lindsey feel safer."

Warrick, against his best intentions, felt his will weaken. It was one thing to say no to Catherine but he had never been able to say no to Lindsey. He could remember when she was six or so and she had hurt herself at school. She had been trying to get candy from everyone but he was by far her easiest target. All she needed to do was bat her big blue eyes at him and he was putty in her hands.

"Ok. But only for a little while"

"And in exchange for my hospitality, you can do the dishes"

Warrick laughed and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel wrong. Catherine smiled at him and slowly sipped her tea. She felt safer already.

* * *

Two days later, well rested and relaxed, Catherine decided to do the shopping. On her return, she noticed a blinking light at the bottom of the door. At first she thought it was a gift from Grissom or from David's ex partner but as she got closer, she got more confused. It was a blinking key ring, Lindsey's name imprinted on it. Attached to it was a small slip of paper, the handwriting small and neat.

_John Wayne Gacy – Gone but by no means forgotten_

Catherine hadn't even known that she had screamed, but she must of because Warrick was at her side in a second.

"What's wrong?"

She showed him the note and he took a deep startled breath.

"Come inside"

"He knows where we live Warrick! He wants Lindsey!"

She started getting frantic, clawing at his chest and crying. Warrick gathered her in his arms and half dragged, half carried her back into the house. He deposited her neatly on the sofa before moving down the hall into Lindsey's room where she was watching a movie on her laptop.

"Lindsey, pack a bag"

She looked at him, a frown on her face.

"Why?"

"Because we need to leave. The sooner the better"

She continued to frown until realization dawned on her and her face became scared.

"He knows where we are doesn't he?"

Warrick said nothing, just turned on his heel and left the room. He went into Catherine's room and packed a few things for her before returning to his and packing what he needed. They were out of the house and on their way to a motel in fifteen minutes, none of the sure what they would do next.

* * *

When Grissom heard what had happened to Catherine, he got Brass to boost the security around the hotel that they were staying at after all Catherine was now a target of a madman with no identity. He wasn't expecting the phone call that he got two days later from Brass.

"Grissom, you need to come to this crime scene"

"Why?"

"Because Serena Wells was murdered"

Grissom felt the breath hitch in his throat. Serena was dead.

"Was it him?"

"I can't tell. It doesn't follow any MO of a killer that I would call famous"

"I'll be right there"

Grissom placed the phone back on the cradle and sat for a moment trying to absorb the news. How could a bright, beautiful woman like that be dead? It went against the laws of nature. He knew that young, beautiful people died every day but it was different when you knew them. It felt like he had been hit with a jack hammer. And there was only one person he could think of that he wanted there with him on this.

"Sara, I need you on this"

* * *

Grissom felt like he had weights in his shoes. Every time he felt certain that he was moving closer to Serena's house, it seemed to drift further away. Sara was at his side, matching her steps to his and staying silent. She was affected by this too and he could feel the sadness came off her in waves. When they finally got into the house, it was dim and it smelt of death, something that didn't feel right in such a big, old house. They found her in the study, sitting in a large high backed chair. She would have looked peaceful if it wasn't for the long slash across her throat. The air in the room evaporated and Grissom couldn't breathe. He didn't look at anyone as he made his way back out of the study and down the stairs to the fresh night air. He bent over and tried to get the oxygen back to his brain. He never heard Sara coming to stand beside him he only felt her hand on his back.

"Grissom, are you ok?"

"No"

He stayed where he was, bent over and Sara began making small circles on his back, almost without any thought at all. When he finally did stand up, she moved in unconsciously pulling him into a tight hug. He stiffened against her before leaning into her embrace, pulling her even closer.

"Gil, are you going to be ok on this?"

He almost missed the fact that she had said his first name and it just leant to the fact that this was much more serious then either of them wanted it to be. They stayed that way for a few minutes before Sara pulled away, her eyes locking onto his.

"Will you be ok?"

"It's just a shock to see this."

"Gil, are you sure that you will be ok? I can take this alone or call Nick or Greg in if you need me too"

Grissom gave her a soft smile and wondered when she had become more concerned then he did. He had always been the one asking her that very question and he was not quite as comfortable on the other end of it.

"I'm fine"

Sara smiled back at him. At this close range he could see the twinkle in her eyes and the small splattering of freckles over her nose.

"I'm here for you Grissom. You know that right?"

Grissom, in a daring move on his part, gently pushed a stray bit of hair of her face, enjoying the feeling of the soft strands between his fingers.

"I know you are Sara."

"Good. We should get back inside"

Grissom nodded and followed her back into the house. He didn't want to be doing this but he knew that he had too. He would rather him do it then someone else. He looked at Serena's body, trying to take an impersonal approach and for a while, it worked. He noticed that the wound on her throat was jagged and that it appeared that she had been attacked from behind, while she had been sitting in her chair. There was nothing to indicate a struggle and her hands were resting on either side of the chair, as if she never moved at all. It was only when he was looking at her feet that he noticed a note sticking out of the top of her shoe. He extracted it carefully with a pair of tweezers, using another pair to open it under the harsh lamp light.

_Gordon Masey – One of the forgotten that no one seems to know. I thought that she would appreciate this more then anyone else. The ultimate kill is closer still_

It was neatly typed and there was nothing to indicate that the paper had been touched but then again, Catherine had gotten a note too. He ear marked it as urgent, hoping that in comparing the notes that the lab would find something. They went over the rest of the scene and found nothing. Grissom closed his case, Sara doing the same and headed back down to the truck. Sara sat silently beside him for a little while before speaking.

"Are you still ok?"

"Yeah. Just worried. He said that the ultimate kill was closer. And not for the first time, I wonder what that means."

"It could mean nothing. This guy took chunks of time doing nothing before popping up again."

"It does mean something. He wants to show us something and I'm not sure what. That is the frustrating part."

"Grissom, the entire case has been that way"

"True. But this is worse. For one, he's hitting a little too close to home for my liking and for another he keeps slipping through our fingers."

Sara drummed her fingers on the dashboard, trying to think of something to help him feel better but it wasn't working. There was nothing she could say and nothing she could do to make him feel better. The only thing that would work was catching this man, whoever he was and putting him behind bars. Until then, she could do nothing more then be there for him.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N - I know that this chapter has taken a little while to come but I have been busy. I also want to offer a challenge to those of you who are regualr readers out there. The note that is mentioned (see below) is a combination of anagrams and sentences that I have created. My challenge is for someone to try and solve that note before the team does. It's harder then it looks because some of the words that you think may be part of the sentence may not. All the answers are held within the story as well as in the mind of our killer. Think like a killer and you should be able to get it. I can offer you no other prize other then I will put you in my next story, as whatever you want to be (within reason of course). So read, reveiw and think what the hell that note is! The person who gets the closest wins!_

Chapter Six – One By One The Angels Will Fall 

_He didn't feel human. It had been a long time since he had thought that about himself. His mother and father didn't think that and from a very early age, he agreed. He was never even normal, regardless of what his mother wished to ignore and remember. She went mad with denial and if it wasn't for the car crash that killed them both, she would have ended up at the mad house. He could still see in his minds eye that look on her face when she had found him dissecting his dog that had just been hit by a car. She had gone ghostly white and shut the door, never to speak of it again. His father had taken the much more direct approach and tired to beat the strangeness out of his small son but no matter what he did, the drive was still there. The only good thing that came from his family was that he was an army brat and he moved so much that it was hard for anything to be tracked to him. He made his first kill when he was nine. It had been an accident but he still got that wonderful rush where he felt like God. He had gone home feeling so happy and when the notice came of the little boy missing, his parents chose to ignore the fact that their son had been absent the time that the boy had supposedly gone missing. They continued to ignore the piles of missing notices that arrived every time they went to a new place and for a little while, he was happy. Then one day while out shopping, his parents were killed. He didn't grieve. He didn't love them the way that he knew he should. And so that was how he came to live with his aunt. Far from being a place where he would need to kill it became a place where he had to kill. His aunt had a little life style block where the animals were raised and then eaten. He reviled in this new found freedom and for a little while, it was enough. Then when he was sixteen, the thirst came again but it was not for animal's blood it was for human. So he began to kill again and he had not stopped for many years. It was always on the quiet though, always people that others would not miss when their lives were ended. That was the only way that he had kept going all these years. He had killed so many that he was only able to number them when he pulled out his memory boxes. He marked his number in the four hundreds but he was never certain. With the ultimate kill under his belt, he could finally rest. He had been working on it for so long that after it was done he would be able to stop. He wanted to stop but he wasn't sure how to satisfy the beast that was crying in his chest. How do you appease a beast that refuses to be quiet? _

* * *

Sara found herself in the most unusual situation when she woke up. Grissom was asleep beside her, his arm pulling her close and her head resting on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. They had gone out the night before and had come back to his place completely drunk and completely useless. She had watched him down whiskey after whiskey, his grief coming through in the empty glasses that sat before him. She had had a few red wines but that was more then enough to send her over the drunken cliff. She remembered the bartender calling them a cab and Grissom ordering the cabbie to take them to his place to watch a movie. She knew that the movie never made it onto the TV and the last thing she remembered was the soft kiss that he had placed on her brow. She stayed where she was, unsure how she was going to approach this new situation. She knew that Grissom was vulnerable and she didn't want to do anything that may exploit that. But then again, she wanted more then Grissom was willing to give and that hurt more then anything else in the world. She listened to his heart, her head rising and falling as he breathed slowly in and out. Without meaning to, she fell back asleep, figuring that this could be sorted out when they were both ready.

* * *

It another two weeks before Catherine felt brave enough to wonder outside of the hotel. She had had the tickets to the carnival for a while now and she was determined to make Lindsey smile again. It was busy and at first, Catherine couldn't relax. She stood on the side lines while Lindsey rode the rides, the smile wide and hard on her face as she screamed with the other passengers. It was only when they were waiting for popcorn that Lindsey voiced her concern. 

"Mom, are you ok?"

"I'm fine Honey. It's good to see you smile again"

"Come on the rides with me! You need to smile too"

"We'll eat and then we'll see ok?"

"Alright"

They ate and approached the line that sat in front of a very large rollercoaster. Lindsey took her mothers hand and all but dragged her onto the coaster as she threw her tickets at the man heading the ride. She gave Catherine a wide smile as the ride began and soon Catherine found herself screaming but for an entirely different reason. She was having fun. For the first time in a long time, she was having a bit of fun with her daughter. She laughed hysterically as they tumbled from the ride, moving to find the next one. After hours of riding everything, Catherine felt a happen exhaustion settling in her body. She knew that tonight she would sleep well. It was almost ten pm before they finally headed back to the car, Lindsey holding her mothers hand, the smile still planted firmly on her face. She unlocked the car and was about to slip into the passenger side when a flash caught her eye. It happened so quickly that she had little time to do anything other then letting her keys slip from her fingers and hit the hard ground.

"Hello Catherine. It's nice to finally meet you"

The man, who Catherine presumed was the man behind all the vicious murders, had Lindsey pressed against his chest, her hair gathered in his hand, a sharp knife pressed against her throat.

"Let me daughter go"

The man smiled widely at her as he took a deep breath, one that stirred the fine fair on Lindsey's head.

"I don't want to hurt her, don't worry. I just need her to get you to come with me"

"I'm not coming with you"

"Then she dies"

Catherine watched in horror as he pressed the knife harder against the tender skin of her daughter's throat, splitting the skin causing blood to slowly begin to trickle down.

"STOP! I'll come with you, just let my daughter go"

"Mom, no!"

Catherine slowly walked to where they were standing, her hands palm up in front of her.

"Lindsey, I'll be fine."

He pushed Lindsey aside and grabbed Catherine roughly, pressing the knife to her throat instead. He looked at Lindsey with hard, narrow eyes.

"Follow me. If you try anything, your Mom dies. Understand?"

Lindsey nodded and followed them to a large white truck that sat in the corner of the lot. She glanced at the license plate, quickly memorizing the numbers and letters. She had already taken the lessons she had learnt after years of hanging out in the lab, putting them to use. She had already fitted out a description of the man that was holding them captive. For once she was glad that her mother had brought her up in that kind of environment, it had prepared her for things that other teenagers would have no idea how to handle. When they finally got to the truck, he pushed Catherine into the passenger seat, pressing the knife harder into her throat, making her sit back harder in her seat.

"Lindsey, I want you to tie your mothers hands to the seat."

It was only then that Lindsey noticed that the man had modified his car seats so that there were handles on both sides of them. She took the rope that was near her mother's feet and began tying her hands. First she tied them loosely but the man caught her and pushed the knife harder, making Catherine gurgle.

"Properly Lindsey. I know that you're not that stupid."

Lindsey nodded slightly and pulled that ropes tighter, tears rolling down her cheeks. She wanted to be a little girl again, when her mother would say everything would be all right and she would believe that because her Mom had said it, it would be true. The man checked the knots over her shoulder, his breath cold and hard on her cheek.

"Well done. Now I will ask you to step over there"

He pointed to a spot about seven feet away from the truck but Lindsey shook her head. She didn't want to leave her mother in the hands of this madman.

"No."

The man frowned at her. He obviously wasn't used to his authority being questioned.

"Do you want your mother to die?"

"No"

"Then move"

Lindsey started to cry, reaching out a hand to touch Catherine's cheek.

"I love you Mommy"

Catherine gave her a soft smile, the tears rolling down her cheeks just as hard.

"I love you to baby. You know what to do right?"

"Yes"

"Do exactly what I said. No matter what"

Lindsey nodded and turned her back but the man pulled at her shoulder.

"I almost forgot. Give your godfather this. Then we'll see how smart he is"

He handed her a slip of paper before turning her back with a kick in the back. Lindsey walked to the spot that he had indicated, holding the letter by the very corner. The man had touched it with his bare hands, leaving fingerprints. He was already dumber then she had expected him to be. She watched carefully as he shut the passenger door, her mother's face pressed to the side of the glass. Lindsey could see the blood flowing from a cut deeper then her own. Far from feeling panicked, she was calm. She knew what had to be done. She watched the truck drive away before pulling her cell phone from her pocket.

* * *

Grissom and Warrick were the first to reach Lindsey but instead of questioning her, Grissom found himself pulling her into a tight hug. 

"Thank God you're ok"

"He got Mom. He gave me this to give to you. I held it carefully so that I only got my prints on the very edge but he touched it with his hand. There should be prints."

She waited until he had put on his gloves before handing it to him, watching as he carefully unfolded it.

_Now do you see my fathomed nutrients?_

_With me the undershot magnifies_

_With my inches finial_

_Covered in downbeat loads_

_You can hear, so ectotherm stainless_

_The forgotten skills earlier_

_All passion and boll lopsided_

_You have become nothing but elfish topcoat_

_And because of you angrier Watson_

_Wellwisher Action will die, you should have moved faster._

_Joy Chang was great but forgotten but not for very long_

_So mole wolf_

_Past the steered bend_

_So that you can then hoard _

_Before finding the dion cowbane_

_Until then loath delta_

Grissom focused on the note for a second, the first thing that struck him was the fact that the note made no sense at all. He carefully placed it in an evidence bag, handing it off to Greg, who was standing behind him. He then leaned forward and gently examined the scrape on Lindsey's throat. It wasn't very deep and the blood had already dried. She winced slightly at his touch but she endured the soft poking.

"I'm fine Grissom but I need to talk to Jim."

"Why?"

"I know what he looks like and I got the license plate off his truck. I need him to write it all down"

Grissom nodded before turning to look over his shoulder at Jim, who was interviewing a few potential witnesses.

"Jim! We need you over here"

Brass nodded before quickly wrapping the interview and moving over to them. He took Lindsey's hand and led her over to a bench that sat near the side of the road, taking a seat beside her. She started talking and for a while, she didn't stop her hands moving as she gave as many details as she could remember. Grissom stood on the side lines unable to decide what to do. Greg had moved first, starting to do the processing on Lindsey's side of the car. Grissom sat back on his heels and waited for inspiration to strike but nothing came. He felt lost.

* * *

Catherine had no idea where they were going. Soon after leaving Lindsey. He had pulled over and put a large burlap sack over her head. She tried to breathe slowly, ignoring the dust that was being dragged into her lungs. She kept pulling at the ropes that bound her wrists but they were too tight to do anything more then shift slightly. At least Lindsey was safe. As long as this madman was with her, everyone else was safe. Soon the truck stopped and she felt it shift as he got out of the vehicle and came around to her side. He undid her arms but kept the sack over her head, pressing the knife to her throat again. 

"Remember the rules Catherine. It would not be hard to bring Lindsey here with you"

She stumbled over what felt like a pebbled path but she could not be sure. He pushed her down some steps before finally pulling off the sack. It took her a second for her eyes to adjust to the dark but when they finally did, she had to swallow the fear rising in her throat. The room was almost completely empty. There were chains coming out from one wall and across from that a table with wheels that contained sharp instruments that glinted in the light from the naked bulb that hung from the ceiling. He pushed her toward the chains and clamped them around her ankles and wrists. He stood back and looked at her, a smile on his face.

"Finally, I have arrived."

He turned on his heel and left the room, the door banging behind him. The moment his footsteps had receded, she started to struggle against the chains. Within moments, the sharps edges of the metal dug into her flesh before slicing the skin, blood swiftly sliding down her hands and feet. She ignored the pain, ignored the blood and continued to fight.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven – Lady In Waiting

Catherine gave up the fight when the sun began to rise and the small slits of light began to appear through the gaps in the room. The metal had rubbed her wrists and ankles raw, despite the clothing she was wearing. She wondered what Lindsey was doing, wondered what the rest of the team was doing. When he opened the door, she forced her thoughts aside and watched him closely. He silently held a glass of water to her lips and waited until she had finished the entire glass before pulling it away. He pulled a pair of scissors and silently began snipping off her clothes until she was standing in nothing more then the tattered remains of her pants and shirt.

"What are you going to do to me?"

Her question seemed to startle him and he studied her as if he had never seen her before. He licked his lips before answering.

"I am going to enjoy our time together Miss Willows. You have no idea how hard I worked for this or how long it took me to get here."

"What are you going to do to me?"

He leaned forward, his face close to hers.

"Everything"

She swallowed heavily as he dropped the scissors on the table and picked up a small razor. He flipped it between his fingers as he approached her, his foot steps slow and sure.

"This will only hurt for a second."

He pressed the blade onto the skin of her stomach and began making tiny slices. Catherine had cut herself on a razor before and it had hurt, a lot. But this, this was an incredible pain. Every time he attacked a new section of exposed skin, the pain came back in waves and quite of their own accord, the tears began. She didn't want to beg but the words slipped out before she could stop them.

"Please stop."

He paused in his cutting and looked at her.

"Don't tell me that you're becoming one of those"

"One of what?"

"A beggar. I hate those."

Catherine closed her mouth and tried not to scream as he continued to slice her skin.

* * *

Grissom had been studying the note for hours, going over the words some many times that they were engrained in his brain. Unfortunately, even doing that did nothing. He didn't have any more clues then he had when the letter had landed in his possession. He was torn between staying where he was and being with Lindsey. He felt guilty that he wasn't with her but there was no point crowding her. She just witnessed the kidnapping of her own mother and she was in good hands with Brass and Warrick keeping a close eyes one her. The fingerprints that she had guessed were one the latter were taking longer then expected to go through and with nothing else to work on, Grissom had spent his time with the note. Maybe the killer was right, he wasn't as smart as he thought he was if he couldn't even decipher a simple not like this one.

"How's it going?"

Sara came to sit beside him, her pale and drawn. Grissom shrugged and returned his eyes to the paper. Sara sitting beside him presented more issues then he could deal with right now. They had taken it too far the other night, even though he knew that nothing sexual had happened, something still happened within him and maybe within her. Their relationship had shifted and he had no idea what it had become.

"It has nothing. I have nothing"

"Let me have a look"

He pushed the note towards her, letting her have the unwilling piece of paper. He watched her eyes dart over the sentences, a smile slowly forming.

"It's an anagram"

Grissom frowned as he pressed closer to her, smelling her shampoo and the soap that stuck to her skin.

"You're kidding?"

"Nope, it's an anagram. Now the question is, what is he trying to say?"

Sara reached over Grissom for the note pad that he had sitting beside him. She started working on the first line, her hand moving furiously across the paper. It took an hour before she sat back, looking pleased with herself.

"Instruments of death, that's the first part."

"Good one Sara."

"I'm good at these things."

"Don't let my incompetence stop you"

She gave him a wide smile, nudging him with her shoulder. Greg came bounding through the door, breaking the peaceful spell. He took a change to take a breathe before thrusting a picture under Grissom's nose.

"I got a match with the prints."

"Who?"

"One Maxwell Walters III. He has not record, not even a parking ticket."

"Well, he still killed those women. We need to connect the other murders with him. Check the other note that was left with Serena's body and compare it. Then back track through the other murders and see what you find"

Greg nodded before peeking over Sara's shoulder.

"How's the note going?"

Sara gave him a small smile, her head still down.

"One sentence at a time Greggo, one sentence at a time"

* * *

He took her watch so she had no idea what time it was. She just knew that time was slipping from her and it was mingling with the pain. The blood had dried on her cuts and the stinging pain had finally subsided but what scared her that she knew that it wasn't going to be the end of it. Every time that she looked up she saw the table covered in shark instruments and she knew that what he had planned for her had more pain then the tiny razor did.

"Catherine, good to see that the blood has dried"

She said nothing as he approached her again, a rag in his hand. He stuffed it into her mouth before bending over and undoing her ankle chains. He pushed her around so that she faced the wall before putting the ankle braces on again. For a terrified moment, she thought that he was going to rape her but then she heard him move away and shift things on his instrument table.

"Now Catherine, I'm not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt"

There was a loud crack before Catherine felt something connect with the bare skin of her back and a blind, ripping pain tore through her body. She tried to scream but nothing but a muffled moan came out from behind the gag. Before she could catch her breath there was another crack and the same pain ripped through her body, following the wave that had barely faded. Again and again the crack and then the pain. By the time it finally ended, her body felt numb and she no longer cared if he killed her. She just wanted this to end. It had been a day and a half and she was already exhausted. It was then, when she was in her low about to give up when quite unexpectedly a flash of mental images flicked before her eyes. There was Lindsey at her last birthday, a tiara that Catherine had brought her perched on her styled hair. The team celebrating after a long case, Warrick smiling at her, Eddie and the happy times that they had had together before he had died. Over and over again the images played, the little reel always going back to Lindsey. Catherine swallowed her desire to die, for this pain to end. What would become of Lindsey if she died? She had already lost her father and grand father, what would become of her if her mother died as well?

* * *

Grissom watched as Sara slept, using her arm as a pillow. He had gone into thee break room to get coffee and was confronted with the slumbering figure of Sara. Catherine had been missing for two days now and there were no leads yet and as Grissom peeked over Sara's shoulder, he saw that she had worked through three lines of the note. She had written her solutions on a pad, each with a question mark. The boys had tried to help but it appeared that only Sara held the gift to solve anagrams

_Fathomed Nutrients – Instruments of death?_

_Undershot Magnifies – The missing are found?_

_Inches Finial – Life in chains?_

He leaned forward, close to her ear and tired to wake her up.

"Sara"

When she did nothing but mumble, he accompanied the call with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Sara."

Sara's eyes popped open, sitting up straight.

"I wasn't sleeping"

Grissom smiled at her as he poured her a cup of coffee.

"I know. Here this might help"

He placed the mug in front of her and watched as she stretched her long body before resuming her work on the letter. She was fairing quite well all things considered. The team was running on almost no sleep at all and it surprised Grissom that the first person to crack under the pressure was the one woman he knew who could go almost one week straight with nothing more then power naps to keep her going.

"I miss Catherine"

Grissom didn't try to hide his surprise at her statement, after all her and Catherine were hardly best friends. They were friends but if it wasn't for work, they would have never bumped into each other in the first place, they traveled completely different social circles.

"Really?"

"Yes and I'm scared of what this Maxwell Walters guy is doing to her."

Grissom touched her hand, removing it just as quickly. The other day when he had woken up to find her sleeping on him, he had been terrified at what may or may not have happened. He recollected little of what he had done while he was drunk but Sara had assured him that nothing at all had progressed between the bar and his house. Grissom was just uncertain as to why there was a deep sense of regret wallowing in the pit of his stomach.

"We'll get him Sara."

"Look what he did to his other victims. I really do not want to be the one to tell Lindsey that her mother died and we were unable to save her"

"That's not going to happen. She will be fine. You know Catherine."

"But I also know what this guy is capable of."

"Sara, I want to reassure you that everything will be ok but I won't lie to you. We can only do this one step at a time"

Sara gave him a smile as she sighed and set her shoulders determinedly.

"That's what I needed to hear. I have no idea if I'm going the right way with this."

"You're doing perfectly."

Sara settled herself back in front of the letter, sipping her coffee and making furious notes on the pad, her pencil scratching the only thing breaking the silence. Grissom looked at her one last time before slipping from the room, heading back to his office.

* * *

When his phone rang, Grissom jumped from his skin. He didn't want to pick it up but he knew he had too. After all, it could end the case or break it wide open. Catherine's life hung in the balance and this phone call could mean more then anything else in the world.

"Grissom"

"Grissom, its Brass"

"What have you got?"

"A body"

The world began to spin and Grissom almost dropped the phone. He took a few deep breaths before he asked the question that he had hoped never to ask.

"Is it Catherine?"

"Don't know"

Grissom felt the anger rose from his stomach, exploding against his chest.

"What do you mean, you don't know"

"The body……It's been decapitated"

"Does it fit her description?"

"Yes. It even has on the same clothes that Catherine had on when she went missing"

"I can't….I don't…"

"I know. I've got Ecklie on it and the body should be with Doc soon"

"What should I do?"

"Gather the troops. We will know soon enough"

"It can't be Catherine"

"Grissom…..it could be."

"Just get the body in"

"We have another problem"

"Shock me"

"There are no fingerprints, they've been seared off"

"I DON'T CARE, JUST BRING IT BACK HERE!"

Grissom hung up the phone and rested his head on his arms. Catherine had been his friend for so many years that he had taken it for granted that one day she may not be there anymore. And that was a thought that he didn't think he could handle. How do you deal with losing your best friend?


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight – The Reaping

He didn't want to do this. He had called the team before going home he could not be at the office any more. He hated the whispers that echoed off the walls, past conversations and rumors came to him over and over again. He wanted to disappear and the only way to do that, was to leave the office. He didn't realize that he was being followed until almost a block from his house and he knew who it was immediately. Sara had followed him home. He continued driving and pulled into his drive way, leaning on his car as she got out of her own. Her face was streaked with tears and she didn't say anything as she moved towards him, her arms crossed over her chest. She opened her mouth to explain but started crying instead and Grissom stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. They stood for a while, united in their grief before he pulled her towards the house, his arm around her shoulders. He poured her a whiskey without asking, handed it to her as she blew her nose, the tears still running unchecked down her cheeks.

"Thank you"

Grissom sat beside her and watched as she tried to get herself back together.

"It can't be Catherine, can it?"

"I don't know"

"I don't want to know"

"But we need to. And we will in a few hours"

Sara took a long pull of her drink, draining the glass and handing it to Grissom to fill back up. He downed the rest of his before topping both of them up and sitting next to her again. This continued for a couple of hours, his filling their glasses, Sara crying and unable to stop. It was only when he was at the stage where the world was getting a little fuzzy at the edges when he realized just how close he was to Sara. When they had first sat down, there had been room between them for another person but now she was almost one his lap, her need for comfort and possibly the alcohol, making it necessary. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the heady smell of her shampoo. She looked up at him, pausing for a moment before leaning forward and kissing him. He didn't even try to push her away, merely pressed into her, enjoying the joy of being lost in the moment. He ignored the niggling voice that told him that this was not the right situation for this, this was not the right moment to do anything stupid. He needed to be lost and what better place to be lost in then with Sara?

* * *

When he woke up, she was gone. There was no note and there was nothing to indicate that she had been there at all, aside from the booming headache and the empty glasses that sat on the table. He had sex with Sara. The one time that it never should have happened, it happened. He glanced at the clock and moved to get dressed. He had to get to the lab to find out just how badly his life had been changed. Sleeping with Sara had been far from what should have happened but it had and now he would have to deal with it. But first he needed to know if anything else had changed.

* * *

When he arrived, they were all standing there, their backs against the wall. Sara glanced at him, looking back down at the ground just as quickly. He took his place next to her, brushing his hand lightly against hers. She looked up again and gave him a soft smile, her hand finding his and holding it tightly. It felt good, he needed an anchor for this. Slowly time slipped by, the seconds turning to minutes, the minutes to hours and Grissom found himself getting impatient. It almost gave him a fright when the door to the coroner's office opened and Doc stepped out, his face grim.

"It's not Catherine"

Grissom closed his eyes and waited for his feet to touch the ground again. He could hear nothing but the happy cries of the team around him and when he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see Warrick had slipped to the floor, his hands pressed hard to his face. Grissom approached him, his hand landing on his shoulder.

"Warrick?"

He was even more surprised when Warrick raised his head, his face covered in tears.

"Come with me"

Warrick nodded and followed him down the hall, his head down. It was only in the office, seated that Grissom spoke again.

"Are you ok?"

Warrick shrugged and smiled.

"I'm relieved. It's not Catherine"

Grissom narrowed his eyes at him, shaking his head.

"It's something else"

"You want the truth?"

"Lay it on me"

"I'm now divorced and I think that I'm in love with Catherine"

Grissom wasn't surprised and he had no idea why. After all, it wasn't as if it had been as obvious as Warrick's tears. It took him a moment before he decided on what to say.

"I slept with Sara."

Warrick smiled at him and began to laugh. Soon Grissom was laughing with him. After the laughter died, Warrick's smiled faded and the haunted look returned to his eyes.

"Do you think Catherine is still alive?"

"I don't have any choice. I have too"

* * *

The blood on her back had dried and it pulled the skin taunt every time she moved. It had been almost two days since he had whipped her and she had not heard a peep from him since. In some way she was grateful, in others she was not. As scary as he was and as much as he had hurt her, he was her only contact with the outside world. She was desperate to her anything, a TV or a radio, anything to tell her what the world was doing. Instead she heard nothing except when he shoes to speak to her. Which was why she was surprised when he arrived that afternoon but she realized quickly that he wasn't alone. The woman that he had with him was as terrified as Catherine was when she had first arrived. There was a thin trail of blood from his knife that had been pressed to her throat. She was a pretty girl, with long red hair and high cheekbones. She said nothing as the man pushed her towards the wall and put her in the same bindings that gripped Catherine until the two women were standing side by side. The man left and Catherine caught the smile on his face as he closed the door behind him. Catherine waited until she was sure that he was out of earshot before speaking.

"Are you ok?

The woman turned her head towards Catherine, her eyes wide and full of tears.

"No"

"Did he hurt you?"

"Just my neck. Who are you?"

"Catherine Willows"

"Catherine Willows? I've read about you in the papers."

Catherine nodded and waited for the wave of hope to pass. She refused to get her hopes up until she was home safe and sound with Lindsey.

"What's your name?"

"Stella Toggen. I just got home from my shopping when he jumped out and dragged me into the truck. I don't know what I'm going to do"

"You have to do what I've been doing the last few days and wait"

The girl looked at Catherine again and frowned at her.

"What did he do to you?"

"I don't want to scare you"

"That bad?"

"That bad."

The man reentered the room silencing whatever comments that the women were about to exchange.

"I see you to are getting on famously. I wanted so badly for you to get on well after all you will be living together and dying together if I have my way."

He went over to his table and picked up the same razor blade that he had used on Catherine the first night that she had been here. She could tell it was the same one it was smeared with her blood.

"Now Stella, has Catherine told you what happens here?"

Stella shook her head, her eyes locked on the razor in his hand as it glinted in the dim light of the room. He smiled at Catherine as he shook his head at her.

"Catherine, I thought you would have told her the rules by now."

"There are no rules"

"Oh yes there are my dear. Stella, listen carefully. The things that I will do to you here are going to hurt but you must remember one thing: I don't like beggars. If you beg, it will hurt more. Do you hear me? Do you understand?"

Stella glanced at Catherine, who nodded slightly. Stella turned her eyes back to the man.

"Yes"

"Good. Let's have some fun shall we? At least we can give poor Catherine here a break"

He pulled a pair of scissors from his pocket and proceeded to cut off Stella's clothes. Catherine fought the urge to cry out and let her logical mind slip past the panic.

"What's your name?"

The man paused before looking at Catherine

"What?"

"What's your name? You know ours its only fair that we know yours."

The man glanced between the two women before he sat on the floor in front of them and answered.

"Maxwell Walters III. Why do you want to know?"

"Because I want to know the name of the man who I'm going to send to prison"

Maxwell laughed and stood in front of them.

"You are not getting rid of me. I'm not going to prison and you're going to die here"

Catherine spoke with bravery that she didn't feel like she possessed.

"No I'm not. You may not realize this Maxwell but you are in more trouble then you think?"

"And why is that Catherine?"

"Did you stalk me?"

"Yes"  
"Then you would have seen my team"

Maxwell began to laugh hard, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

"That little group is going to get me into trouble?"

"Yes"

"They look like a stiff breeze would blow them over"

Catherine gave him a tight smile and a hard look. She watched as the laugh died on the man's lips.

"They are more then you think. They will find you and they will catch you. And you will get the death penalty."

The man moved close to Catherine, pressing his face into hers. They stared at each other for a few seconds before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of cloth and shoving it into her mouth.

"I'm sick of all this chatter. Be quiet now Catherine, I have work to do"

He moved away from her and back to Stella, continuing in the cutting of her clothes. With this task done, he started to cut her skin with the razor but instead of screaming or begging, Stella remained still and silent. Her eyes were closed tightly, her breathing rapid but aside from that, there was no reaction. Maxwell. At first seemed satisfied, he thought that he had scared her into silence. But he became more confused as he pressed deeper into her flesh and nothing happened. He dropped the razor and started hitting her instead. Catherine made what little protest she could from behind the gag that filled her mouth but there was nothing more she could do. After the tenth punch, Stella finally caved to the pain and gave a scream of protest. Maxwell smiled and wiped his bloodied knuckles on his pants. He picked up the razor from the floor, placing it back on his table of equipment. He removed the gag from Catherine's mouth but wasn't fast enough to avoid the saliva when Catherine spat at him. He smiled when he used the rag to wipe the fluid from his face.

"I'm glad I picked you Catherine Willows. You are the challenge that I have been looking for"

He turned and left the room. Catherine turned to Stella, a smile on her face.

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Take the pain?"

Stella smiled back, her eyes already horribly swollen, both of her lips split.

"I was in an abusive relationship for years and after he left me, I used to cut myself."

"Shit. I'm sorry"

Stella shook her head, the smile still on her face.

"Catherine, if we survive this, I'm going to buy you a beer."

"We are going to survive this Stella. What I said about my team, it's true. They will find us. So you had better be prepared to buy me that drink"

"If your team is as good as you say they are I'll buy you all a drink"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine – While You're Waiting

Sara could hardly contain her excitement. She had finally done it, the note was finished. She took a moment to feel good before she ran to Grissom's office, the note tight in her hand.

"Grissom I got it! I finished the note!"

Grissom looked up at her and frowned.

"What?"

"I know what he's trying to say!"

Grissom wordlessly picked up his phone and paged the rest of the team before he stood and pulled Sara into a quick hug. She leaned into him and he could feel the hammering of it against his own. He kissed the top of her head and for the second time in the last forty-eight hours, he felt happy. Catherine was going to be fine. He broke the hug and within seconds the rest of the team had come into the room, taking seats around the office. Sara quickly popped the letter onto the overhead projector that Grissom had lurking in his office and placed her work on it. She ignored the frowns and began to read out loud.

_Now do you see my instruments of torture?_

_With me the missing are found_

_With my life in chains_

_Covered in blood and sweat_

_You can hear, so listen to the screams_

_The forgotten serial killers_

_All the passion and spilled blood_

_You have become nothing but pathetic fools_

_And because of you arrogant swine _

_Catherine Willows will die you should have moved faster._

_John Gacy was great but forgotten but not for very long _

_So follow me_

_Past the bended tree_

_So that you can head north_

_Before finding the wooden cabin_

_Until then, death to all_

"He's giving us directions to where he has Catherine"

"But how do we know that this is the truth?"

Nick wasn't trying to be cynical, Sara knew that. He just didn't want to be caught up in false hopes.

"Nicky, whether it's a lead or not, it's the only one we have."

Grissom moved behind her, his eyes still on the paper.

"Catherine and Lindsey were attacked at the carnival. What do you do at the carnival?"

His comment was met with raised eyebrows. He turned to Warrick.

"When we went on the rollercoaster, what did you do?"

He shrugged waiting for a response but got none. It only took him a few more seconds before he realized what Grissom meant.

"I screamed. He wants us to go to the carnival."

"Correct. What about the rest of the directions?"

Nick spoke next, his voice slow.

"Past the bended tree. The Bended Tree is a bar, we've been there a few times Warrick, remember?"

'Yeah, I do."

Grissom gathered his coat and keys, smiling at the team.

"What are we waiting for?"

* * *

Catherine's wrists and ankles had gone numb quite awhile ago but she had failed to notice. It was only when she moved that she realized that the metal that was clamped there was slipping up and down a littler easier then it had at the beginning. She pulled and tired to see how far her hands could move but they halted at the beginning of her hand.

"Catherine, what are you doing?"

"The bonds, they seem to be loosening. But I can't get them past my hands"

"Be careful that you don't dislocate your wrist"

"That's it! Stella, you are brilliant. I can't do it right now though. He always comes down with that knife. I have to wait until he's confident enough to come here without it."

"Then what?"

"You and I will get out of here."

"I thought your team would be coming"

"Oh they are but I don't really fancy getting whipped again."

"He whipped you?"

"Yup. And it hurts like shit."

Stella bit her lip as the tears began to fall.

"Is he going to do that to me?"

Catherine stopped fighting the bonds long enough to look at Stella. She was so young, no older then twenty-five and Catherine would have loved to lie to her to form some sort of protection for her but she knew that this was not a situation that she could lie in. Stella would find out the truth sooner or later and it was far better for her to be prepared.

"Maybe. I'm not sure."

Stella nodded and set her shoulders.

"Ok. So do we have a plan?"

"I'm not sure yet but when I think of one, you'll be the first to know"

Maxwell walked into the room, his feet silent on the hard ground. He said nothing as he went over to his table and touched the instruments that lay there. He hummed under his breath as he moved and Catherine found herself studying him, her investigative mind moving forward and pushing every other instinct back. HE wasn't all that tall, less then Nick or Warrick but a little more then her. His hair was brown and thick at the front but was thinning more on the back of his scalp. He wasn't fat or thin, just a happy average. But she could tell he came from a rich family, she could see it in the way he moved and in the way his chin tilted arrogantly. There was nothing extraordinary about Maxwell Walters III and Catherine guessed that was why he had blended in all these years. He was plain and unassuming. He picked up a crow bar and turned to the women, a smile on his face. He swung his arm back and brought the crowbar down on Stella's leg, the bone breaking in a loud, horrible crack. Stella screamed loud and hard, her face screwed up in pain. Maxwell stood back and admired his handy work. He moved back to the table, placing the crowbar down and stroking the other instruments. He picked up his knife that he had placed on the table when he had first arrived and turned back to Catherine. He held her arm still and pushed the knife deep into her flesh. A white, hot searing pain tore through her but she bit her lip to stop the scream. She would not scream. He twisted the knife but she fought for her silence, letting the tears fall down but nothing more. He pulled it out roughly, smiling at her. His hand stroked her arm bathing it in her blood. He cut his palm, watching as the blood mingled together.

"We are one now Catherine. Now and forever."

He took the knife and plunged it into her thigh and another wave of pain, much stronger then the last and it tore a scream from her throat. His smile became wider as he moved away from her.

"At last, a scream."

"Fuck you"

"Now now Catherine, play nice."

His laughter rattled off the walls long after he left the room. Catherine looked at Stella. Who was pale with pain.

"We'll get through this Stella, I promise"

Stella nodded and Catherine looked down at her leg. The bone was shattered, that much she could tell but the bone had not broken the skin. This was a good thing considering that broken skin would mean infection.

"Stella, can you move your toes?"

Stella squeezed her eyes shut and Catherine could hear her breath through a hitch of pain.

"Yes"

"Good. That's a good sign, despite the pain"

"Catherine, are you ok?"

Catherine nodded, ignoring the blood that she could hear dripping on the floor from her wound.

"Fine. It felt worse then it actually is"

"Liar. He stabbed you twice, badly"

"I've lived through worse. Lindsey was hell on wheels. I was in labour for almost three days with her"

"How old is she?"

"Fourteen."

"Who is she most like, you or her father?"

"Unfortunately, she's like me. Stubborn, pigheaded and determined"

"She'll be fine then."

Catherine laughed despite herself. People had been telling her that for years.

"She's a beautiful little girl"

"I would like to meet her when we get out"

"She would be happy to met her. She'll be happy to meet the woman who kept her mother sane through all this"

"I've just met you"

"Maxwell was the only contact I had so it can only go up from there."

Stella laughed and Catherine smiled. She was still surprised that friendship could be found in the darkest of moments.

* * *

They did as the letter had said but they got nowhere and got there quickly. They went to the carnival, then to the bar but there was nowhere to go from there. The owner of the bar informed them that there were at least a thousand cabins dotted over that part of the land, most of which were hiding places for those that did not wish to be found. Which Grissom knew that meant that no one would be under their real name and the owner as not about to tell them where to head. Sara pushed her way to the front of the small group and thrust a picture under the man's nose.

"Do you know this man? Have you seen him?"

The man glanced at the picture before looking at Sara and shaking his head. It pissed Sara off that this man knew something but wasn't going to tell them anything. Grissom ignored her anger and took her arm, leading them back out into the hard sun. He looked them over as they stood before him, waiting for him to renew their faith, waiting for a reason to continue. But he could not find the words that would give it back to them.

"I don't know what to say guys"

Sara shook her head and turned to the team, her face determined.

"We need to go back to the lab and go over it again"

"We've gone over it a hundred times already! FOR FUCK SAKE!"  
Nick through down the file and walked off, no one bothering to follow him. HE was angry. They all were.

"We need to think like this guy. What did the victims have in common."

"They were stalked"

Greg's comment was quiet and Grissom was fairly certain that he was talking to himself but he didn't care.

"Good one Greg. They were all stalked. If he has her, then what is the point in keeping her"

"The ultimate kill"

Grissom gave Greg a wide smile as he spoke again, this time with a little more confidence.

"So what is this guy's idea of an ultimate kill?"

"He hunts them. He wants to hunt Catherine"

Sara's face was pulled into deeper frown as she spoke, her voice low.

"He wants to hunt her"

"But how can he do that if he has her already?"

"Greg, that's what we need to figure out."

Sara pager went off first, followed closely by Grissom's, Warrick's and Greg's. Grissom shook his head as they all went to pull out their phones, he might as well make the call.

"Brass."

"Jim, it's Grissom."

"Just the man I wanted. We have a young woman missing from her home"

"And?"

"We think Maxwell has her"

"What makes you think that?"

"Because he left a note"

"What does it say?"

"I have her. That's it. Catherine is not alone in this anymore Gil, we need to get them both home."

"What's the girl's name?"

"Stella Toggen. She's only twenty-three and studying law and ethics at the local university."

"Have her parents been contacted?"

"They both died when she was younger but she has an older brother."

"Has the situation been explained to him?"

"Yup but he wants to meet with you"

"I will try to arrange it but don't make any promises Jim."

"Ok"

Grissom hung up the phone and looked at the teams expectant faces.

"He has another girl"

"So Catherine's not alone?"

"Not but that offers me no comfort."

Warrick stepped forward and placed his hand on Grissom's shoulder.

"I have to go home."

"Why?"

"Because Lindsey gets home from school in an hour and I need to be there when she gets back."

Grissom felt a stab of guilt at the mention of Lindsey. He was her godfather, the job that Warrick was taking on was his and his alone. But he would rather be working the case then dealing with Lindsey and the questions that she had a right to have answered.

"How is she doing?"

"Not good but we're getting there. At least the reporters have stopped following us around"

Grissom nodded and watched as he drove away. He didn't mind the Warrick was going, after all Catherine would kill them if they didn't take good care of Lindsey while she was away. And if she never came home, at least she would be safe in the knowledge that Lindsey would be well looked after. He turned back to his team.

"Let's get back to the lab and try and find something about what he has planned for Stella and Catherine."

* * *

Lindsey had stopped eating just after Catherine had disappeared. Warrick had taken her to the doctor when he realized just how much weight she had lost. The doctor had informed him that this sometimes happened when children and teenagers lost someone, especially in quick succession as Lindsey had. Instead of voicing their fears they would often try to take control of their lives again in the only way they knew how – through their bodies. So Warrick had to stand over her and watch as she drunk her protein shake, doing everything that he could to make her eat the foods that she used to eat in huge amounts. He had tried everything, even making her favorite meals but to prevail. She had just stopped eating. When she came home from school, she would strip off her uniform and put on some of Catherine's clothes before sitting in front of the TV with the news on. That's all she would watch now days.

"How about we put a movie on Linds?"

"What about Mom? What if they find her?"

Warrick sat beside her and took the remote from her hand.

"You know that if that happens, we'll know before anyone else, even the reporters. Grissom would call us. So pick a movie ok? I'll make us some dinner"

She nodded and began to search the DVD's that had laid abandoned for so long. Warrick went through the motions of making dinner, even though he knew that he would be the only one eating. He didn't want to but he knew that he had to give Lindsey the impression that it would be ok. He wanted nothing more then to do what she was doing but there was no point in both of them wallowing in their grief. He made some roast chicken wraps, filling them with lettuce, tomato, onion, cheese and mayonnaise. He placed one in font of Lindsey along with a soda and began to eat. He was surprised when, for the first time in days, she began to eat with him.

"So what movie are we going to watch?"

Lindsey held up the case for American Pie with a smile.

"Mom and I have watched it at least a hundred times."

"Well, it is a good movie"

"I know. This is good Warrick, thank you"

"Not a problem Linds."

They finished eating and then took their usual positions on the sofa as the movie started. They had fallen into a routine since this tragedy happened. He would sit on one end and Lindsey would sit against him, her face in his chest, her legs curled up under her. It was only half way through the movie when he realized that she was crying.

"Linds, are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm just remembering"

Warrick pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. He didn't know when Catherine was going to be coming home but he knew that until this happened, he was going to stay with Lindsey, the most important person in all of this mess.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N - So this is the last chapter and I hope that you enjoy it. The story was ahrd to write as I have had so much work to do with school that every time I had a spare second, I was writing. So I hope that it is up to my normal standard. So please read and reveiw, tell me what you think! Thanks again._

Chapter Ten – Stealing Society

Catherine knew something was up. Maxwell had come into the room and placed his keys on the table and walked out of the room. He never said anything, never even looked at them but there was something decisive about his movements.

"Why did he do that?"

Catherine looked at Stella, shaking her head.

"I have no idea"

So they waited an hour and then another and another. It was on the forth hour that they heard a car leave. This was the time. Catherine pulled hard on the chains, ignoring the shooting pain. She kept pulling and it was only when she felt the crack and felt the pain that she realized that she had just disconnected her wrist.

"Ow. Be careful Catherine"

"I'm ok Stella but we need those keys."

Catherine took a moment to feel the relief that came with a free arm before trying to reach the table. She couldn't reach. She stretched out her leg and managed to pull it towards her. There were thousands of keys on the chain and Catherine took a deep breath before beginning the search for the right key. It took another hour and at least forty keys before she found the right one. She unlocked her other arm first before undoing the chains that shackled Stella. Stella stood for a moment before slumping to the floor.

"Stella!"

Catherine gathered the girl in her arms.

"Stella, are you ok?"

"Yeah I'm fine. I just felt dizzy. Can we do something with my leg?"

"Of course. Stay here and I'll go have a look for something"

"Catherine, no! He might still be in the house"

Catherine looked around her for some sort of weapon, her eyes catching the glint of the crowbar. She picked it up and tested the weight in her hand before flashing Stella a smile.

"Don't worry. Stay here and stay still until I get back."

Catherine crept to the door, took a deep breath and pushed it open. The house was dead quiet but Catherine didn't take the time to look around, she needed something to set Stella's leg. It was only when she bumped the leg of the chair when she had an idea. She swung the crowbar hard, splintering the wood, neatly separating it from the body of the chair. She then headed to the bathroom and found some towels before she headed back to Stella. She closed the door after herself and crouched down next to Stella.

"This is going to hurt Honey"

Stella gritted her teeth and watched as Catherine tore up the towel into strips. She straightened her leg, ignoring the hiss of pain from the young woman. She pressed the wood against the leg and used the towel to bind it tightly.

"Stella, can you move your toes?"

Catherine watched closely as Stella wriggled her toes, which were still nice and pink.

"Good. Now, should we get out of here?"

Stella smiled and Catherine pulled her to her feet. Catherine pulled her arm over her shoulder and they began their walk outside of the house, Catherine still armed with the crowbar. When they were finally outside, taking a moment to enjoy the sun on their skin, they heard a car coming back up the drive. Catherine felt a jolt of panic rip through her body before the survival instinct kicked in. She half pulled, have dragged Stella away from the house, glancing over her shoulder every few seconds. Maxwell had gotten out of the car and moved to the back of it, pulling out a shot gun.

"Stella, we have to move."

"CATHERINE! STELLA!"

Catherine ignored his calls and they kept moving. There was a rare section of forest that was hard to find in Las Vegas. They needed to get into the trees and try to hide.

"RUN ALL YOU LIKE LADIES! THIS IS ALL PART OF THE ULTIMATE KILL! I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU A LITTLE WHILE LONGER BEFORE I START THE HUNT"!

Catherine could already feel the sweat pooling on her brow and the sweat that dripped down her back. Even though they moved as fast as they could they had only gotten as far as the edge of the trees before a shot rang out.

"Shit! He's coming"

Catherine pulled Stella into the trees and they began to stumble around trying to find a place to hide. There was nowhere to go and Catherine was running out of the energy that had kept her going so far. He was going to hunt them and kill them like wild animals.

* * *

Grissom's flash of inspiration came when he was looking over the notes for a different case. Maxwell Walters III wanted the ultimate kill and with Catherine under his belt, what could he do from there? That was when he realized that Maxwell wanted the ultimate prey and to do that he would need to hunt. That's what he was going to do: hunt down Catherine and Stella. He pulled out a map that Greg had given him earlier that day and laid it out over his desk. Where the owner had pointed out where the cabins were, he looked for some sort of restricted forest area. There were only three that he could take them for the hunt. Grissom picked up his phone and began to call it in, hoping that he wasn't too late.

* * *

Catherine and Stella had somehow managed to get deeper into the woods, moving as quickly as they could. Stella was breathing heavily and Catherine was unsure how long she could go on this way.

"Catherine?"

"Yes?"

"Leave me here. We can't get anywhere this way."

"No, I'm not leaving you"

A haven came in the form of a deep hollow in a large tree, it was big and Catherine felt a rush of appreciation for Mother Nature as her and Stella crawled inside. Catherine reached out one last time and pulled some leaves and other debris forward to cover the hole. Catherine tried to catch her breath, her arm still around Stella, who was sweating with exertion and pain.

"Catherine, if I don't make it-"

"You will make it, we both will. I have a plan"

"And that would be?"

Catherine kept her voice low, her mouth close to Stella's ear. The last thing they needed was Maxwell to hear them.

"I'm going to go out there, distract him"

"Catherine, you can't do that!"

"Well, you can hardly move and if I can get him away from you-"

"What if he gets you?"

"Then tell Lindsey I love her"

Catherine ignored Stella's protests and pocked her head out from the gap in the tree, seeing if the coast was clear. It was. She couldn't see him and she certainly couldn't hear him. She scrambled out of her hiding place and quickly covered the hole before moving further into the woods. She was just starting to feel confident when she heard the footsteps behind her.

"Oh Catherine!"

She ducked behind a tree when she heard the gun cock, closing her eyes tightly as the bullet tore through the bark. She took the opportunity to keep running, ducking and weaving as she went. The trees were starting to thin out but she kept running, ignoring her need to breath. The branches and twigs tore at her skin but she didn't care, all she wanted was to get home and see Lindsey. She didn't even realize that she had left the wooded area behind, her bare feet making contact with the hard, pebbled road. By the time she did, it was too late to move out of the way of the oncoming car. It hit her and for a moment she was air borne before landing hard on the ground. Her last thought was of Lindsey before she slipped gratefully into the bliss of unconsciousness.

* * *

Grissom tried to maintain control of the car, his hands still gripping the steering wheel.

"Everyone ok?"

They all nodded and tired to breathe.

"What the hell was that?"

"I'm not sure."

Grissom slipped out of the truck and went to investigate. It was Catherine. They had hit Catherine. Grissom checked her over quickly, trying to assure himself that she was ok. Nothing was broken, just scratched and cut.

"Oh my God! Catherine!"

Warrick had arrived at his side, gathering Catherine in his arms. She started to wake up, her eyes fluttering open and closed.

"Stella"

"It's ok Cath, we're here"

"Stella. She's still out there and so is he"

Grissom looked around the area but there was no one else to see.

"I'll go and check it out"

Catherine shook her head slowly.

"She won't come out. Sara needs to go"

Sara nodded as she went to head out but Catherine's voice stopped her.

"Take your gun. He's still out there."

Sara nodded as she took her gun out from its holster and started her way back into the woods where Catherine had come from. It was a little scary how quickly the others faded from her sight but that was all the better for them. She needed to concentrate. She moved inch by inch, carefully avoiding anything that would give her away.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Sara turned and was faced with a gun. Maxwell smiled at her widely at her down the barrel of his gun.

"Put your gun down little lady. We need to talk"

Sara lowered her gun to the round before standing back up, her hands palm forward.

"Where is Catherine?"

"Safe. You can't hurt her anymore"

"That is a shame. I will miss her. But you're here now"

He nudged her with the gun, pushing her forward back towards the house. Sara ignored the movement that caught her eye, putting it down to hopeful imagination. It was only when she heard a loud crack and a thump that she turned around. A young woman, dressed only in her underwear, her leg in a make shift splint, a crow bar in her hand stood over the body.

"Fucken asshole."

Before Sara could say anything, the woman collapsed to the ground, moaning in pain. Sara went to her side and pulled her from the ground.

"Stella Troggen I presume"

"Is Catherine really ok?"

"She'll be fine."

"She said that her team will come and find us. I didn't believe her"

"Good thing that she's not a liar then"

Stella sat up a little more and studied Maxwell who lay prone on the ground.

"Is he still alive?"

Sara shrugged as she abandoned her position next to Stella and moved closer to Maxwell. She moved around him carefully, kicking his gun away and picking up her own. She pressed it to his temple as she checked his pulse.

"I think he's out cold."

Stella screamed when Maxwell grabbed Sara's ankle, pulling her hard to the ground. Sara didn't think twice, moving on pure instinct as she pulled the trigger of her gun, blasting the front of Maxwell's skull. He collapsed onto the ground, never to get up again and never to terrorize anyone else. Sara wiped the blood off her face and gave Stella a smile.

"I'm Sara by the way."

Stella smiled as Sara pulled her from the ground and put her arm around her shoulder and headed back to Grissom and the rest of the team. It was finally over.

* * *

When Catherine woke up again, she was in hospital. Warrick was beside her bed, holding her hand.

"Hey."

Warrick looked at her and smiled.

"You're awake."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A day and a half. No surprise considering what you've been through"

"Stella. Is she ok?"

"She's in surgery getting that leg of hers fixed. She's fine Catherine."

"Good. I have a bone to pick with Grissom. I cannot believe he hit me with that damn truck of his"

"Yeah, well he's always had a unique way of finding people"

Catherine laughed but it was cut short by the pain in her side.

"Ow."

"Yep that's what happens when you have bruised ribs. There's someone who's been waiting to see you"

"Lindsey? How is she?"

"She's better now that we found you. She was horrible to live with"

"You stayed with her?"

"Of course. She's important to you Cath and she needed to feel safe in her own home."

Catherine pulled him into a hug and he held her gently. There was so much he wanted to say but words at this point didn't matter. She was safe and everything he had to say, everything he wanted to stay could wait until she was better. She kissed him on the cheek as he pulled back.

"Thank you Warrick. You have no idea what that means to me"

Warrick gave her a small smile before moving to the door and pulling it open. Catherine didn't even see Lindsey until her daughter had leaped onto the bed, pulling Catherine into a furious hug. The pain from her injuries didn't matter, she had Lindsey back in her arms. Catherine stroked her hair, breathing in the baby smell that still lingered and enjoying the skin on skin contact that she thought that she would never feel again. Lindsey relaxed out of the hug and settled herself on Catherine's side.

"I'm so glad that you're ok"

Catherine smiled down at her, wondering how in the world her little girl had grown up so much since she had last seen her. She was taller, her arms longer and her body felt far to slim for Catherine's liking.

"What about you? Are you ok?"

"Now that you're back, yes. I missed you Mom"

"You missed me? I thought I was uncool?"

Lindsey looked up at her and smiled

"You are but I love you anyway"

"I'll take that as a compliment. I love you too."

They sat there for a long time, just the two of them, basking in the joy of being together again. It had been the two of them for so long that being apart was far harder then either of them had expected.

* * *

Warrick fell into the old habit of making dinner despite the fact that Catherine was home now. He didn't mind though, it was good for Catherine and Lindsey to spend time together and since Tina had left him, he enjoyed the company that being with Tina lacked.

"Dinner's ready"

Lindsey and Catherine came in and sat down and they ate together in peaceful silence. They cleaned the kitchen up together as well, the conversation light and playful. When it was time for Lindsey to go to bed, he kissed her on the top of the head and watched Catherine follow her to tuck her in. They had been inseparable the last few days that Catherine had been home but that didn't seem to bother either of them. Their stability had been stolen from them and it would be a while before they got it back. When Catherine came back, she sat beside him, taking the coffee that he offered her.

"So what now?"

Catherine looked at him expectantly but Warrick had no idea what she meant.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what now that Tina is gone?"

Warrick shrugged and felt the heavy mood that he had been avoiding settled on him.

"I don't know."

"Well, just as long as you know you can stay here as long as you want to."

"I don't want to over stay my welcome"

Catherine leaned in close, her breath hot on his cheek.

"I hate to tell you this Warrick, but you're part of the family now"

Warrick turned to smile at her but it was a bad idea. She was too close now and he could not pull away. He leaned forward a little more, closing the gap and pressing his lips to hers. It lasted a second before Catherine pulled away, her face tugged into a frown.

"What was that?"

Warrick moved right back, putting more space between them.

"I'm sorry Cath. I don't know what to do"

"About what?"

"About how I feel. I didn't want to tell you this"

Catherine moved closer, making him nervous.

"Why?"

"Because of Tina. I blame myself for what happened to my marriage and Tina does as well. She knew where my priorities lay and it wasn't with her. It was with you."

"Me?"

"You. I have feelings for you Cath and I have no idea how to explain it"

Catherine smiled at Warrick and this time she was the one who pressed in for the kiss. This time he was the one that pulled away.

"What was that for?"

"Warrick, you have done more for me then anyone else. You looked after Lindsey and made sure that she didn't fall apart. I've always had feelings for you Warrick. Do you remember how heart broken I was when you got married?

"Yes"

"And that was why"

This time the kiss was a mutual movement. The soft kisses led to more furious ones and before either of them knew it, they had stepped into an entirely different part of their relationship.

* * *

It was safe to talk about now. There was no more grief about Catherine and with her safe and sound, Sara could finally speak about what had happened that night between her and Grissom. She found him in his office, his head down as he went over some files. She knocked on the doorframe and went in, settling herself on the seat across from him.

"Hey Grissom"

Grissom finally lifted his head and smiled at her as he closed the files.

"Hi Sara. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"I wanted to talk about what happened that night"

The smile faded from his face and he took his glasses off.

"Oh"

"I don't expect anything from it Grissom. I know that it was borne of things that neither of us could control. Grief does weird things to people"

"I feel guilty Sara"

"Why?"

"Because it wasn't quite that way."

Sara leaned towards him, her hands on his desk.

"What do you mean?"

Grissom leaned forward as well.

"I mean, that some part of me, whatever part it was, wanted this to happen. Grief is the excuse but by no means the reason"

"So you wanted us to sleep together?"

"Yes. If I didn't want it to happen, it never would have"

Sara leaned back in her seat, the weight gone off her shoulders. But now she felt nervous and scared.

"So where to from here?"

Grissom shrugged and gave her a half smile.

"I have no idea."

Sara smiled back. She didn't know where they were going but at least he admitted that there was something there. Even a smart man like Grissom needed to take baby steps every once and awhile.

* * *

When two weeks had passed, Catherine arranged to meet Stella for coffee. Catherine felt nervous despite knowing that there was nothing for her to be nervous about. After all, she and Stella had survived something that no one else had and that was a bond that not everyone could boast.

"Catherine!"

Stella was approaching her, still on crutches. Catherine pulled her into a tight hug and helped her into a seat.

"What do you want?"

"Caramel Latte thanks"

Catherine placed the order as well as a Hazelnut espresso before heading back outside to her seat.

"So how have you been Stella?"

"Ok I guess. A few things have changed"

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that I've talked to my brother for the first time in seven years. He's moved in with me to help out. When I get better, he plans to buy a house here."

"That's awesome. You need your family around you after this"

Stella smiled, playing with the top of her cast.

"It's more then that Catherine. I quit school"

"Why?"

"Because I realized that there more important things then doing what my parents want. I know that they died but they wanted me to do so many things in my life that I never wanted."

"Well then, what do you want?"

"I'm not sure yet. But I've given myself a year off to try and work it out. They can hold my place at school but after twelve months I lose it."

Catherine nodded and decided that this girl was far smarter then her years.

"I didn't even start studying for this job until I was twenty-seven"

"How come?"

"Well, I was making good money stripping and then I met my husband and had Lindsey. It took quite a while to sort myself out"

"You stripped?"

The shocked look was the same one that Catherine had been getting for years and it surprised her that it never varied even though it was passed from person to person.

"Yup. So don't be too stressed Stella, you'll find out what you want to do soon enough"

"Thanks Catherine. How about we get onto a nicer topic? How is Lindsey?"

Catherine smiled at the mention of her daughter. The peace in the house didn't last long. They had already had one of their fights except for some reason, now it was easier to fix. Lindsey always said sorry first, even though Catherine could have been the one to start it.

"She's good. She's eating again and the smile that I love has come back. Which reminds me, you need to come over to the house some time for dinner. She really wants to meet you"

"Sounds good"

Their coffee's arrived and they sat in the hot sun and enjoyed them, the conversation lazy and comfortable. Catherine looked over at the horizon, suddenly feeling very contemplative. She was doing that a lot lately, getting lost in thoughts that she had never been lost in before. But it was hard not too after a near death experience like that. She suddenly knew what Nick had been talking about those weeks after they had saved him from being buried alive. Everything felt different, all the old sensations felt new and delicious. She didn't take anything for granted now. Simple things like doing the dishes and watching Lindsey come home from school were some of the highlights to her day. She liked that Warrick was there, letting her talk and say what she needed to. They had never made their relationship official but everyone knew. They didn't make a big deal of him moving in either, after all he was already living there and Lindsey had just made him part of her family almost without realizing it.. She and Warrick were taking it slow, she didn't fancy being the rebound girl but something told her that this was more then a rebound relationship. She knew that Warrick had been unhappy, could almost see the shift in the relationship when things between him and Tina started to fail but she never mentioned it. Things were different now and even though she knew that they could never been the same, she wasn't the slightest bit afraid.

"Catherine?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think it's going to rain today?"

Catherine looked around at the sky and at the dark clouds that threatened over head.

"Maybe. But a little rain never hurt anyone"


End file.
